#the mountain pass lighting is just...chefs kiss
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🌞Golden Hour🌞
Hair Mod: Prince of the Gate
#the mountain pass lighting is just...chefs kiss#mountain pass#long hair wyll#wyll#wyll ravengard#bg3 wyll#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#bg3 screenshots
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No true words aside from mentioning how much I adore this lighting.
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#raphael the cambion#the devil you know#raphael bg3#bg3 screenshots#bg3 tav#bg3 oc#durge tav#raphael x tav#my screenshots#bg3 mods#i love these sweeties#the mountain pass lighting is just chefs kiss#raphael just basking in the rays#it's what he deserves
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤
tagged by my friend @fortysevenswrites
this order is somewhat loose, it changes depending on my Mood.
gray areas
Gray, in all its varieties, serves as a perfect understanding of who Cassian Andor is. Gray gives Cassian Andor’s life meaning. It colors it, entirely. The life of Cassian Andor, from the ice-covered mountains of Fest, to the white sand beaches of Scarif, and all the gray areas in between.
to the surprise of absolutely fucking no one, gray areas continues to be my beloved, the first fic I posted and the OG Nonsense. while I don't think the prose is particularly noteworthy (some of it is quite good but you can also tell I was Possessed and just banging out the chapters like a machine), I'm still very proud of the plot and themes I managed to drag out of it. I am obsessed with the idea of the narrative explicitly telling you what is going to happen even while the character(s) don't know, and that happens a lot in this. (there is no way to change the ending). I think the original characters in this are also interesting, particularly Asori, Nerezza, and Taraja; and Zeferino, who many readers were stunningly fond of, lol. when I wrote it in 2016/2017 it was still in line with the "canon" backstory, something I did put some effort in. Andor has absolutely shut the door on that one but I think the story still holds up as an alternate take on what Cassian Andor's backstory could have been.
2. to meet beyond shadows
Five years after the Battle of Crait, the Resistance wages a fierce war against the First Order. Jedi Master Ben Organa-Solo guides the New Jedi Order in the war, and their fight against Supreme Leader Kylo Ren and his Knights. But there are evils waiting to be awakened. Words that must be said. Myths that must be realized. Brothers that must be confronted. The end is near. [Or: Ben Solo is not the one who becomes Kylo Ren, in this full TROS AU/rewrite.]
I return to this series a lot, my Sequel Trilogy AU in which Leia and Han had identical twin sons, expanding on the twin themes present thru Star Wars (literal twins but also metaphorical twins, good and evil, light and dark etc). one of them goes the Kylo Ren route while the other does not. my take on Kylo in the Sequel Trilogy is that he never had a chance with the uniqueness he couldn't help, and that he inherited all the worst traits of the Skywalkers, so it was fun to explore what might have happened if he had a brother who was his mirror, a brother who was the best of the Skywalkers yet loved him unconditionally still. I wrote a lot about brothers on opposite sides who still loved each other so desperately in the Nonsense, and this series built on that foundation. (Local Woman Who Is Not A Brother Constantly Writes About Brothers). Ben has a really great arc in this series that's one of the finest character arcs I've ever done, if not THE finest. and I so treasured the way multiple readers came to sympathize and understand Bail/Kylo and his ultimate ending, a character who was never interested in redemption but sort of stumbled into it anyway. this last story in the series is the biggest departure from the Sequel Trilogy as a whole (the other two mostly followed TFA and TLJ) and I think it's very good. I love the plot, the Old EU lore I borrowed from, the tragedy and the euphoria, seeing the end coming and being powerless to stop it, and the ultimate messages it shared. **chef's kiss** [my gravestone will probably read something like "here lies theputterer who died as she lived; trying to get people to read her Sequel Trilogy AU"] [honestly this fic might be the best I've ever written, at least Technically speaking]
3. death trembles to take us
Jyn has walked the Earth for over four thousand years, leading a team of warriors. They’ve fought in hundreds of battles, and died hundreds of times, returning to take up their weapons and fight again. They choose to fight for what they believe in, as the world turns and changes around them. But in Juba, they encounter an existential threat, one they have never seen before. And meanwhile, on the other side of the world, an assassin dies on a city street, only to rise again. [A THE OLD GUARD au]
the little story that could! a very self-indulgent AU that got such a lovely and gratifying response from the fandom(s). (special shoutout to the SEVERAL readers who gave this fic a shot even tho they'd never seen The Old Guard and/or didn't care for it lol). I am quite proud of it. it was fun to explore history and come up with backstories for the Rogue One gang that still meshed with what we know of them in canon. I like the themes and messages the story delivered. I would also be deeply remiss in not Once Again thanking @rifle-yes for the support and enthusiasm. at least half of the readers of this fic were drawn to it thanks to their efforts. I also don't think I would have attempted my Fringe AU without the readers of this story.
4. Lady Lazarus
A woman dies in Venice. That’s how the story goes. It’s very important they follow where the story goes. Where it’s supposed to go.
listen. I was also very surprised. I watched the Mission: Impossible movies for the first time this summer and totally fell in love with Ilsa Faust, this very cool and interesting spy with somewhat fluid loyalties. also the movies fucking rule. go see Dead Reckoning: Part One while it's still in theaters. as a known connoisseur of the Tragic Love Story, I ate that shit up and wrote a speculative story/ character study exploring Ilsa in the movie. prayer circle it becomes correct. I like the flow of this fic and the prose of it is quite nice and also all the resurrection bits. Rebecca Ferguson forever!!!
5. a ghost story
He looked at Fima. “The shadow; the man. What did he look like?” Fima swallowed, and Cassian did not like the way his son was looking at him, with something akin to wariness, something close to fear. “Like you.” [Or: a ghost story about fathers, sons, and the trauma of abandonment.]
I think all of my little short stories in the Nonsense Expanded Universe are nice and so this last spot could be interchangeable. but I am very fond of a ghost story, in that it is sweet and tragic and allows Cassian a bit of understanding with who Gabriel was, something he desperately needed and was very much paling in comparison to all he came to know about Serafima. also ghosts/hauntings are very fun.
tagging: @rifle-yes, @callioope @vaderkat @alecjmarsh and anyone else who wants to give it a shot!
#writing#my writing#my fic#personal#it remains very funny how i will go to bat for my fics any day of the week#but getting me to praise or even look at my original stories sends me into the ocean
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hm..how about a MC with a moth familiar and the reactions of the M6? My own MC has a moth familiar and i think id be fun to see other ppl's take on it.
M6 reaction to mc having a moth familiar
Wearing:lucio's existence nothing
A/n: I love this idea sm fufufu- and just for you lovey I'ma add a small lucio bounce even tho I hate him more then anything in the world, I wouldn't pass up on an opportunity to bully him :)
Also I use both he/him and they/them for asra
Reader:gn!reader
Asra:
Omgomgomgomgomg-
They're so happy for you!! Honestly he's more excited then you are!
Faust is OVERJOYED that she ain't the only animal around anymore
Spoils you, you're familiar AND Faust
And ofc you 3 spoil them with love and affection witch he thrives on
Ever since your lil friend joined ya'll at the shop, flowers have become a daily purchase
One bouquet for ya bud and one for the light of his life
You always thank them with a lil kiss and your familiar started copying you when he brings them flowers 🥺
Just like- they (your familiar) fly up to his cheek or nose and just ~chuu~
And flutter either back to you or the bouquet he got em
Even tho he can't really feel it he knows it's a lil kiss as thank you like you do
He cried, you cried, Faust's giving you a kiss now and you familiar is having their snack from the flowers they got from asra
Julian:
"MALAK DON'T EAT THEM!!"
*panic*
He's kicked malak out of the shop for a good while..
Loves you little buddy tho! :D
Caught you sleeping with a book in your hands and you familiar resting on your nose/cheek
"..stop being cute" -julian probably
Once malak starts behaving, he's allowed back in the shop, according to juju
Malak let's your familiar rest on his hear while he's sleeping in his nest that he made inside the shop
You caught this and was relieved that he stopped trying to eat your buddy
Nadia:
*subtlety excited countess noises*
So so SO happy for you
Throws a little welcome party between you, her, your familiar, the other m6 and chandra
The room is decorated with all sorts of flowers for your moth and snacks and tea for you two and the others
Manages to hand make a little crown/tiara for your familiar
She's smitten 100%
Chandra won't even try to eat them, she knows better unlike other birds plus all her food is made by the castle chefs
Chandra and your familiar get along quite well
Walks around with your moth on her shoulder/head when you leave them with her to do something quickly
And ofc no one questions the countess
Portia:
She's practically jumping off the walls when you tell her the wonderful news!
Goes straight to her kitchen to bake something for you two and to pick a few flowers for your moth from her garden
Coos at how cute they are when they're on you nose and you cross eyed to look at them <3
Pepi is just as excited as pasha
Pepi and your familiar take naps together fight me-
Muriel:
Mountain man adores you and your familiar
But he's afraid he'd hurt them :((
Watching you and them interact warms his heart
Innana chases after them in a playful way
Happy that innana and your familiar get along so nicely
After a bit of reassurance from you he finally let's your familiar rest on one of his fingers
Looks at you with puppy dog eyes and says he loves them and you *heart squeeze*
Smal bonus!
Your familiar purposely flys at lucio's face -specially the eyes- to scear him and it works every time
Idk how to write Portia and Muriel that well, so sorry love 😅 but I hope you enjoy this! It was so fun to write!
#the arcana headcanons#the arcana x male reader#the arcana x reader#asra and faust#asra alzanar#nadia satrivana#julian devorak#muriel#portia devorak#asra x reader#julian x reader#nadia x reader#portia x reader#muriel x reader
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Voylitscope Fic Masterpost
Steve puts his paintbrush down. He runs his hands over Bucky's blue-painted stomach and over the trail of hair that leads to his pants. "Wanna see what other colors look like too," Steve says, letting his fingers roam and listening to the sounds Bucky makes when he does. "Gotta be prepared next time." "Sure. Whatever you want. Told you," Bucky says, and then his hips rock up under Steve's. The angle's not right and the friction's not perfect. It's still enough that both of them groan. Steve wonders how long Bucky's been holding himself back and trying to resist moving like that. "Just— can you— please?" "Don't know what you're asking for," Steve says. He sort of does. He's got a couple ideas, anyway. But the idea of Bucky saying it, actually asking, is too good to pass up. "You're so — c'mere," Bucky says as he guides Steve closer to him with the hand he's got on Steve's back. "You plannin' to kiss me?"
— I Wanna Live in the Hidden Parts of Your Skin
Stucky:
Explicit:
There's a Light (I Find It At Your Side) | Canon Divergent | Complete | 4,537 words | A very soft fic about all the little things that keep surprising Bucky now that he and Steve are together.
There Are Strangers I Have Yet To Become | Canon Divergent | Complete | 16,070 words | Steve finds Bucky in Bucharest before the events of Captain America: Civil War. They work a few things out.
I Held You in Cold Hands (And I'm Not Letting Go) | AU: Modern | Complete | 48,785 words | A holiday rom-com in which Bucky reads to children, Steve teaches art, new friendships are made, difficult conversations are had, cookies are baked, way too much coffee is consumed, home is found in surprising places and, eventually, feelings are confessed
I Wanna Live in the Hidden Parts of Your Skin | Pre-war + Canon divergent | Complete | 10,278 words | Steve and Bucky discover a kink in 1940. They find a reason to come back to it 80 years later.
Where Were You When I Was King in This Part of Town? | AU: Modern | WIP | 15,232 words 2 of 3 chapters posted | Bucky probably shouldn't have sex with Steve in his office, continue having sex with Steve after he learns how much younger than him Steve is, start actually dating Steve, or fall for Steve hard and fast. Unless, of course, Bucky should absolutely do every one of those things.
If I Could Stop The Clock With You Tonight | AU: Modern | Complete | 10,855 words | Natasha hires a private chef to cook Steve's birthday dinner. Steve's not too sure about the idea of a total stranger in his apartment on his birthday, but Chef James is incredibly attractive and very charming. He also seems oddly familiar. That might just be because Steve has met him before.
Hearts Don't Need a Break (I'll Be Waiting For You | Canon Divergent: ShrunkyClunks | Complete | 4,615 words | Bucky enthusiastically welcomes Steve back after a long absence, and they have a very overdue conversation about their relationship — and their feelings.
Darling, Let's Take Our Time (While It's Still Ours To Take) | AU: Star Wars | Complete | 6,682 words | Steve's a rebel pilot with a target on his back, Bucky runs a bar that's a hub for rebel activity, and the two of them have a long history. It's a Star Wars AU.
But Slowly, Because You Know Me | Pre-War | 5,186 words| Complete | Thanksgiving this year feels strange and terrible, and it leaves Steve in an awful mood. Good thing Bucky's got an idea. A pre-war Thanksgiving fic featuring pie slices, a makeshift blindfold, their fire escape, and a lot of feelings.
Baby, Lay Your Burden Down | Wartime | 2,867 words | Complete | Bucky, Steve, a tent, and a cold night in Europe.
And We're on Our Own in the Afterglow | Canon Divergent | | WIP | 9,028 words | 2/5 chapters | Steve, Bucky, and a month's vacation in a mountain cabin. Featuring Steve's art, a fireplace, online shopping, so very much pining, two beds (but eventual sharing anyway), comfort for decades of hurt, and even some talk about feelings.
Mature:
As Your Heart Keeps Me Warm | Canon + Canon divergence | Complete | 8,024 words | Steve Rogers at exactly 2:14 am on 10 different sleepless nights between 1937 and 2020.
We Were Strangers for Far Too Long |AU: Historic | Complete | 5,314 words | It's the late 1970s, and two boys from Brooklyn spend most of their days breaking the law. Bucky, because there's no other way to work off a debt owed to dangerous people. Steve, because maybe if he paints his message on the side of the C Train, someone will finally listen. Meeting each other doesn't change anything. Until it changes everything.
But You Can Hold Me (Only 'Cause It's a Cold Night In Brooklyn) | Pre-war | Complete | 3,300 words | Sometimes, Bucky and Steve lend each other a hand, literally. Bucky tries not to be weird about it, but he's always been bad at controlling his thoughts about Steve.
Teen:
We Set a Precedent, and Now I'm Living With It AU: Modern | Complete | 8,212 words | Work friends Bucky and Steve get into the habit of helping each other escape uncomfortable, awkward, or bad situations. Their escape plans get increasingly elaborate as their friendship gets increasingly close. That's probably why their whole office thinks they're actually dating.
A Kiss Just Waiting to Happen AU: Modern | Complete | 3,470 words | College boys Steve and Bucky have been checking each other out in the hallways of their apartment building for the better part of a school year. Then they get trapped in an elevator together. Because sometimes we all need a little trope-y goodness.
Gen:
Following the Outline of Your Face | Canon | Complete| 1,000 words | A ficlet about vacations, drawing, and the good light.
Set the Date, Set the Time (‘Cause We Already Know Where We’re Going) | AU: Modern | Complete | 5,161 words | Steve teaches art to kids. He's used to his students not always being focused on art, and he's used to them being very curious about him. He's not at all used to them trying to set him up with their adult family members, but he can't complain about it. Not when the family member he's been set up with walks through his classroom door and is the most beautiful man Steve has ever seen.
You're a Gem But Not a Saint | Pre-war | Complete | 1,700 words | Steve doesn't show up for dinner. Bucky wishes he could think Steve just forgot.
CA: TWS 10th Anniversary ficlets | Canon + Canon divergence | Gen -> Mature |5,700 words total | Complete | No warnings
Additional ships, fandoms, and original work:
MCU |Polyamory: Cap Quartet Combinations
"Right now, he smells like his musky cedar-noted body wash, faintly of weed and also, actually, like Steve. Nat laughs softly when she catches the familiar scent of Steve's favorite tobacco-scented soap mixing in. It's honestly a really pleasant effect that could pass as intentional if she didn't know them both so well. "Mm?" Bucky says in response to her laughter. Nat turns her face just slightly but stays in the crook of his neck. "You smell like Steve was here," Nat points out, Bucky grins, and she watches the motion of his jaw when he does. He passes her their dwindling joint again before he answers. "Steve lives here," Bucky says. Nat pokes at his stomach for it with her free hand and then leaves her hand on the soft fabric of his sweater. "And six hours ago he was in a much better mood," Bucky adds. Nat laughs again.
— I'm Gonna Keep You Weak In The Knees (Try To Unlock Your Heart)
I'm Gonna Keep You Weak In The Knees (Try To Unlock Your Heart) | AU: Modern | Bucky/Natasha, Bucky/Natasha/Steve | Explicit | Complete | 4,360 words | Bucky and Nat share a joint and then have sex. Steve fights with people on the internet
Success Was Survival And Kid, It Still Is | Canon-set | Steve/Natasha/Sam| Explicit |Complete | 6,100 words | It's another night in another seedy motel room, and Nat's feeling the stress of their latest mission. Steve and Sam help her stop thinking for a while.
Non-MCU Fandoms
Drew wants to do it forever the second it starts. He puts a hand on Eli's knee and Eli folds into him a little. Drew's swimming, and he's floating. It feels easy in the best way. It's easy, like slipping into a jacket that's all broken and fits you perfectly, and easy like drumming the tempo of a song you've played a thousand times with beats that have sunken into your own pulse. It's easy, like when a new pair of jeans fit just right after the first wash, and easy like when you're learning a brand new song and your hands find the beat like you knew it already. It's easy, like things that are natural, safe, comfortable, yours, and good. It's easy in a way Drew didn't know being with a person could be. — Yes, a Heart Should Always Go One Step Too Far
Just Us Spanning Light Years (Meet Me In The Sky) Star Wars | Han/Lando | General | Compete | 500 words | A tiny moment in a faraway part of the galaxy.
Your Girl She's a Renegade (A Hurricane That Keeps You There Safe) | Pretty Little Liars | Hanna/Spencer | Mature | Complete | 3,260 words | A noir-style AU featuring vigilante girlfriends Spencer and Hanna.
You Forget, I've Known You Seven Years | Pretty Little Liars | Toby/Caleb | 9,700 words | Teen | Complete | A Five Times Fic. Five Toby and Caleb scenes that could be canon. And one that diverges off to start an entirely new story.
So I Could Blend in With the Sky | The Secret Garden | Collin/Dickon |General | Complete | 5,300 words | Sometimes, it felt as if Dickon knew Colin's secrets before Colin himself did.
Yes, a Heart Should Always Go One Step Too Far | Degrassi | Eli/Drew Teen | Complete | 6,700 words | Drew and Eli get locked in a shed during a thunderstorm. Drew has some revelations about bisexuality.
Will You Keep a Candle Burning? (Will You Let Me Come and Stay?) | Newsies expect, like, not? Look, I don't know. This is my weird little baby, though. You should totally read about my polyamorous OC newsboys, okay? | Explicit | Complete | M/M, M/M/M/M | 116,252 words | In the summer of 1899, Elijah takes a train to New York after getting kicked out of college. He finds himself thrown into the middle of a labor strike and a woefully under-negotiated polyamorous male trio. Somehow, he quickly becomes vital to both situations. He might even be the missing piece the trio has always needed. He's never been sure he believed in fate, but it quickly becomes hard for him not to think that he's exactly where he's meant to be.
When You First Took My Hand On A Cold Christmas Eve | Explicit | Complete | M/M | 5,700 words | It's a prequel to the sort-of-a-Newsies fic! | Two boys spending Christmas in a jail cell. Featuring: telling stories about Finnish Christmas customs, making homemade mistletoe, cuddling under scratchy blankets, trying out new sex ideas, and having conversations about the benefits of sticking together.
Original Work:
Gabe's doing that thing he does. Well, alright, fine. He's just sitting there. He's not actually doing anything, but it feels like he is. He's sitting there with his I'm working glasses on, his dark hair falling over his face, and a black sweater covering his small frame. It's all a lot for Aiden to handle. A sweater, honestly. First of all, it's warm as hell out today. Second of all, who the fuck just casually wears a sweater like that? Aiden doesn't even own any sweaters. Let alone entirely too-well-fitting, thin, and soft-looking black ones. Every single day of Aiden's life is a struggle. — Secretly, I'm Hoping For the Dare Again
Leave Your Legacy In Gold On The Plaques That Line The Hall | Mature | Complete | M/M | 5,100 words | Corey's best friend and stepsister are probably into each other. It's fine. Corey is secretly in love with his best friend, but it's really fine. Corey can handle this. Really.)
A Time and Place Stand Still | Teen | Complete | 19,623 words | A gay Beauty and The Beast Retelling
All Those Walls Are Caving In (It's Beautiful) | General | Complete | 4,898 words | A ghost story | Mia gets both acting advice and a request for help from a ghost.
And If All That I Could Ever Be | Explicit | Complete | M/M | 25,214 words| Declan is a famous musician guest-starring as himself on two episodes of a TV show. He's not really sure why he let his team talk him into it. Cole is a studio intern who is more than happy to help with anything Declan needs during his week on set.
So Tell Me Your Type, 'Cause Right Now I'm Listening | Explicit | WIP | M/M | 22,228 words| Ethan is spending the weekend in his hometown in an attempt to get over an ex and clear his head. He's not planning to go to a party or to spend his entire Friday night talking to his best friend's older brother. He winds up doing both. A lot can change in a weekend.
Secretly, I'm Hoping For the Dare Again | Explicit | Complete | M/M | 10,474 words | Aiden's always been a terrible liar. He can't even lie to himself, and the truth? Is that he's got a major problem. It goes like this: Aiden's best friend, his college roommate, his former tutor, and his hopeless crush? Are all the same guy.
Don't Really Wanna Stop Myself | Explicit | Complete | M/M | 10,282 words | While on tour, Caleb comes back to his hotel suite to find a hot stranger in his hotel room. It's a surprise, but it's a surprise he can absolutely work with.
This Could Be The Drug That Doesn't Bite | Explicit | Complete | M/M | 8,531 words | Miles really should have read more reviews of this bar before he came out tonight. Dustin is more than happy to offer him some advice. And to offer him a few other things.
If I Taste Bittersweet | Explicit | Complete | M/M/M/M | 13,409 words | Connor's had a run of terrible luck. He needs to earn a lot of money in the next two days. He's counting on this sex party as a way to make at least some of what he needs. He's not counting on meeting Trevor and Lucas, or on the ways they make it seem like his luck might be changing.
All The Wine is All for Me | Explicit | Complete | M/M | 8,885 words | Mark's business partners swore they were going to get him laid on his birthday. He assumed that meant they were planning to be his wingmen over a few birthday drinks. He didn't think they meant they were going to buy birthday sex for him. As it turns out? That's exactly what they meant.
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Hello friends! Here is my contribution to the Bakugou Birthday Bash! The master link will be linked here ! Please enjoy my bit of an angsty fic! And all of the other art and works that are on the master list! Enjoy the big bakugou blow out and remember to leave a comment on your favorite pieces! Happy birthday ya shitty man! (Lowkey become 3d please)
Warning: he's 28 btw 😂 (my fic says so also)
It shouldn't be this fucking hard to get groceries and booze. It's a quick and easy errand. Everything already pre-ordered for an important birthday that just needed to be picked up. And yet here you were crying in your car trying to get it together before the attendant asked for the order name. Honestly you had texted out "I can't do this today. Sorry." Several times before deleting it, telling yourself not to hit send. But you would have to be having the worst mental day of your life wouldn't you? Today of all days, how fucking selfish of you.
Especially with the amount of time and effort you and Kirishima had put into this idea. Since New Year's actually, months and months of planning after the two of you had gotten shit faced at Denki and Mina's new years party, creating the brain child. All after bonding over switching patrol partners six months before, you had gotten Bakugou and he had gotten Ashido. Kirishima and yourself giggle over stupid things to the side of the party, people watching as you took shots. Kirishima points towards a normally grumpy blonde.
"Wow I think he's actually having fun." You snort, as you watch Bakugou hide his rare cat smile behind a sip of his beer as Mina makes Denki the butt of a joke.
"He actually loves parties. He never says it so people just think he's a wet blanket." Kirishima laughs, pouring the two of you another shot. Bakugou lets out a particularly loud laugh after 'Dunce Face' proves Mina's point. I guess that would be the time that it started.
When you started to fall. His laugh makes your cheeks deepen in hue and burn, to want to hear it again, to watch it again and learn all of the other sides of your patrol partner that he obviously only reserved for his closest friends.
"Let's throw him a great birthday party." You say, holding up your shot as a devilish smile spreads over sharp teeth. The mountainous man clinks your shot glass before he adds.
"Let's." In unison the two of you down the burning liquid as the plan comes into fruition.
Four months, four months and nineteen days of you thinking of nothing but your patrol partner with whom you got extremely close with since New Year's. So why? Why today of all days were you struggling? Why would normal everyday tasks feel more as if you were wading through mud than the breeze they should have been? You flip down the visor, looking yourself in the eye through little square mirror as you grit your teeth hissing
"Get your shit together."
Your little pep talk helps you get the several cakes and the cart full of booze that everyone requested, planning to make this the best birthday ever. Helping Kirishima set his house up with decorations, setting out the snacks, catering and even pouring some drinks as guests began to arrive to set down their gifts and help with the last minute touches before hiding. Masking through the pit in your stomach as you smiled at all of your friends as they poured in through Kirishima's door. Through the weighted emptiness you felt as each one wrapped you into a tight hug, already praising you and Kirishima for the amazing effort, that Bakugou would be so surprised when it was more than just you and Kirishima here. . Finally you had to go and get the guest of honor just before sundown to catch him before he went to bed. A much needed breather from the constant smiling and forcing a laugh that everyone thought sounded genuine.
Enjoying the silence of the evening train as it pulled you across town to the unsuspecting blonde. And maybe you could have made it through the night from your shitty pep talk or at least through getting the freshly 28 year old to his party but instead you catch your reflection in the window. Your facial features weighted with exhaustion, shoulders hunched allowing your body to continue to produce cortisol. Tears prick your eyes as you deep low, too low. Remembering everything and nothing all at once, steeping in guilt as you beg yourself for just a few more hours. That the depression episode can happen when you're home and alone, after the party goes off without a hitch. Tears fall anyway and they do all the way to Bakugou's until you finally get enough control to step out of yourself for a moment. Ringing the doorbell several times as a smile is plastered on your face, the door swings open. Bakugou's eyes narrow as they take you in, he notices that something is off. Your smile is a little too wide, your eyes rimmed red but he says nothing about it. Instead he lets his initial anger come forth.
"Oi! I told you to fuckin' text me when you were on the train so I could meet you at the station!" He growls, slamming his door shut and pocketing his keys. Deadly and sweaty hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket as his palms itch to hold onto something else. Garnet eyes track your own hands as you reach over your head stretching.
"Yea yea, I hear you Dad." You tease giving him a look, "I still made it okay."
"Kirishima should have come instead of you that fuckin hair for brains." He snarls keeping pace with you as he always does on patrol.
"I know Dad must be sad cause his favorite didn't come to pick him up." You try not to sound dejected, nudging him in the ribs to distract from the crack in your voice, "Happy birthday ya big lug."
Bakugou cuts you a glare, mind racing before his barks out a "Thanks."
Comfortable silence stretches between the two of you before you two hit the train station, passing a corner store.
"Was shitty hair burning dinner? Do I need to stop for back up?" His thumb hooks over his shoulder towards the neon as he stands idle waiting for you to jog your memory. Kirishima had burned the last friend's dinner making Bakugou so angry he walked six blocks to make something that was 'FUCKIN EDIBLE!' while you tried to air out his apartment. You laugh loudly, genuinely for the first time that day causing Bakugou's shoulders to sag with relief. In the ten months he had been working with you he had only seen you faking a smile or laugh once or twice. Then the time after that you were absent from work the next day or two forcing him to patrol with Denki but worse yet...making him worry.
"Guess I'll grab something just in case." He gave you his back so you wouldn't see his face or the faint blush that dusted his cheeks.
"No, no! I ordered out this time. From that famous chef you like." Bakugou glares your way, digging in his back pocket for his wallet.
"How much." He demands through gritted teeth while you show him the palms of your hands in surrender.
"Woah woah! It's your birthday gift! You can't pay me back for dinner! I'd sooner burn the money before I'd accept it from you!" Your watch dings with a message from Kirishima asking for an ETA. You grab onto Bakugou's hand pulling him along into a run as you shout over your shoulder.
"We're gonna be late!"
Oh how Bakugou wished you hadn't done that, he was already struggling to keep his heart beat even when you were around and now to grab onto him. To pull him along in a hurry like those cheesy insta posts that couples did on their "grand adventure" together. He swallows the lump in his throat as he reminds himself that you are nothing more than his patrol partner. His friend at best.
Even though the train was mostly empty Bakugou stood closely by you, as he always did when the two of you were in a crowded space. He had seen how most men took advantage of the situation and he hated the idea of that happening to you although he knew you were more than capable of handling it on your own. Hell you could kick even his ass but he would die before ever admitting that. Instead he watches you talk about what you ordered for dinner and how you got the cake from that bakery Sato works part time at, the same one he got your birthday cake from but he doesn't hear a word. Instead all he can see is the golden light from the setting sun worshiping you. Kissing your skin to make it glow, giving your eyes a hue that makes his heart fall into his stomach and illuminating you in a true light. A radiant ethereal thing is what you were and Bakugou was just lucky enough to be standing by you. So out of it he doesn't realize the two of you are at your stop.
"Uh Suki?" Your voice is soft paired with the setting sun has him acting weird. He leans closer to you, pulled by some invisible force before he stops himself as he watches you look up at him beneath long lashes.
"You okay?" You ask almost nervously from his proximity, the smell of spice and caramel wrap around you making you feel warm and fuzzy. Temporarily making you forget that you were trying to act on the train, making you relax as you just talked to Bakugou. He sucks his teeth as he picks up your bag to sling over his shoulder.
"Yea but you were gonna forget your whole damn purse like you always do." He huffs, this time he was the one pulling at your hand in a rush before the doors closed to trap you two on the train. His hand feels warm in yours, his grip tight as he drags you along before pulling you within his sight, another habit of his you happened to notice. Almost reluctantly he lets go of you hand as Kirishima's house comes into view.
"We better have a good time tonight patrol Princess or you owe me a special birthday gift." He laughs causing you to roll your eyes at his stupid nickname that stuck after your first day with him, adamant that the two of you take your route instead of his it was a huge argument. But it was a good thing he listened to the "princess", it put the two of you smack dab in the middle of a robbery. You stick out your tongue.
"Trust me. You're gonna have a good time!" You push him up the steps as he bats away your hands. Opening the front door before everyone jumps out of various and bad hiding spots.
"SURPRISE!!" All of the alumni of class A and some of B shout, a select few already slurring their words. Bakugou's scowl turns into a smirk before he looks over his shoulder at you.
"Aw you did this to me?" His voice is teasing but his eyes almost sparkle, you nod encouraging him to go deeper into the party. As he does people flock to him laughing and yelling out happy birthday until he's sick of hearing it. All the while your smile wanes with the night. Until an hour in that heavy episode hits you full force. Numbness setting in where happiness should be, rotting as it turns to shame and guilt as you watch your friend, your crush, enjoy his night. Bringing a glass bottle to his lips as he talks with Kirishima, who then presses a shot into his hands. Bodies dancing to the house music that beat out of the speakers competing with chatter and laughter.
It felt weird to watch everyone truly enjoying themselves while you felt low. It felt more as if you were standing outside of the house, looking in through the window to see everyone enjoying themselves, no one even knowing who you were as you stared in.
You felt distant, alone. What a shitty way to feel in a room full of people, none of it being their fault and so the guilt pressed harder. Eyes watering as they lingered on the blonde who deserved this celebration and more. Making you decide to give the best birthday gift of them all.
To slip away upstairs and onto the roof, to give the room space to breathe when you felt like suffocating.
Crying to no one but the moon.
And no one noticed. Two hours slip by before Kirishima insists that Bakugou make a wish and eat cake before everyone gets too drunk too. The entire house drunkenly sings happy birthday but Bakugou notices a voice missing. Yours that's just a touch off key, not to mention he didn't hear you say the stupid nickname 'Suki' where his name should be in the song. Plus you weren't one to miss out on dessert. For as long as Bakugou has been working with you, you never turned down the opportunity for sweets. Whether that was taking the long way back to the agency to try to catch a certain street vendor or to hover by the deserts at a party to pick the very best treat.
And if it was a birthday party, you never could shut up that y'all could not leave until after they blew out the candles and made a wish.
His eyes linger for a second longer, making sure he didn't miss you before his heart sinks. He takes in a sharp inhale, thinks on his wish and blows out the candles.
Meanwhile you hear the cheers of everyone down stairs and sob into your knees. You missed your favorite part of birthdays. Of hoping they make a wish that comes true, of watching their face as they think of something quickly or how some people tear up when they finally realize just how loved they are on their birthday.
It isn't long after that do you hear the sound of combat boots on shingles. Whipping your head up in the direction of the sound. Stomach clenching with guilt as you watch Bakugou walking towards you with a slice of cake.
"Brought ya some cake, since I didn't hear you sing off key to me." He says sinking down beside you as you furiously wipe at your tears.
"I'm-um."
"You don't gotta explain yourself to me." He snarls as you stare dumbly at your cake, "You know that."
"I know…" Silence passes slowly, the moon shines overhead and the party carries on below.
"Well, I'm waiting!" Bakugou says dramatically, "You gonna sing or am I gonna have to sing to myself?"
"Oh." It makes you giggle a bit before you blush, realizing he is serious. You take a deep breath before singing "just off key" when you don't, to him.
"Sukiiiiii!" Relief washes over his features when he hears the dumb ass name, "Happy birthday to youuuuuu!"
"Okay, now you can eat the damn cake." He grunts, his smile never wavering as he looks to the empty street below. You follow his eyes, chewing the inside of your lip, setting the cake down.
"What'd you wish for…" Curiosity gets the better of you and earns his intense gaze. He smirks, scoffing at the end.
"You always say you shouldn't tell or it won't come true." He laughs at your pout, before he finally admits "I wished for courage."
With a furrowed brow you give him a puzzled look, he just holds your gaze.
"Why? You're like the bravest hero I know!" Bakugou can hear the truth in your voice, you aren't saying it just to fucking stroke his ego.
You actually meant it, making this conversation that much harder.
"Yea except when it comes to this one thing I want to do. Its fuckin easy and I've done it hundreds of times just as I'm about to do it I fucking back down cause I'm probably fuckin reading into things too much." He leans in closer, again his smell mesmerizes you, causing your body to visibly relax, "Too much of a fuckin bitch, thinking she doesn't want me like I want her. So I wished for the courage to follow through. To fuckin' just do it."
Your heart is racing out of your chest before one of his hands finds the nape of your neck pulling you into a feverish kiss. Teeth gnashing from the passion, lips perfectly modeling to the other before tongues lightly dance around one another. Lengthening seconds into hours with just a few head tilts and plush lips. You moan into his mouth, he pulls away, eyes clouded with lust as a string of spit connects your tongues. He pants, face flushed and his hand warm, almost burning at the nape of your neck, the shingle by his hand charred from restraint as he pants out.
"I wished for you."
#bakugou x reader#bakugou birthday bash#bnha x reader#bakugo x reader#bnha au#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo#bnha imagine#bakugou birthday
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meet the weasleys — george weasley
pairing: george weasley x female!reader
summary: george takes reader to meet his family.
requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!
"I’m nervous."
"Well, don't be."
"Thank you, George. That somehow just alleviated all of my worries."
George snickers and squeezes her hand in reassurance. “Just relax. My family doesn't bite—or, well, Ron used to, but that was back when he was, what, five? And besides, you already know him, and he's never bit you before, has he?"
"Not helping."
"And you've met most of my family already."
“I haven't met your mum. Or your dad. Or Bill and Charlie,” she argues, eyes worriedly darting from George’s own to the wooden door in front of them.
George laughs again. His eyes don’t fail to catch onto the way she’s frantically tapping her foot against the ground, how she keeps worrying at her bottom lip. The sight has him grinning widely; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t horribly endeared.
“Listen,” he says, removing his fingers from her own in favor of turning her around to face him. George’s hands go to her neck, cradling the sides of her cheeks. “They’re going to love you. And if they don’t—well, I can always find a different family.”
”George,” she sighs.
”Only joking,” he grins, and leans in to press a very brief kiss to the tip of her nose. “But I mean it. They’ll adore you. Possibly even more than I do, although that’s up for debate.”
She lets out a long breath, pursing her lips together in a feeble attempt at a smile, but George commends her for trying. He drops his hands back to his sides and laces his fingers through her own again, turning to face the door like they’re about to venture into some sort of grand adventure and not into his family’s living room—and George is about to twist open the knob, until [Y/N] goes, “Wait.”
He glances at her. Her eyes are wide and the look on her face still so uncertain. Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she asks him, “How do I look?”
The grin on George’s face is so impossibly wide. “Like a billion galleons,” he tells her. Just because he can’t resist the urge, he swoops down to press one more chaste kiss to her lips. And then finally, he twists the knob.
The moment George steps foot through the door, he’s immediately enveloped by the wafting scent of something being cooked on the stove. It smells familiar, like he should know what it is, but George has never been much of a chef. But he recognizes the sounds—the voices—coming from the kitchen despite all of them mingling together to form one raucous chorus of chatter. He knows exactly which voice belongs to who—knows that the loud shriek is his mum reprimanding one of them, knows that the sound of someone whining is very likely Ron. That laugh is Bill’s, too, mingled with Fred’s voice. George just knows, automatically, without even having to think about it. George knows, too, without looking down on the “welcome” mat in front of the door, that there are going to be muddy boots on top it—and there they are. He steps around them. George knows that there is going to be a quilt magically knitting itself together on the couch without even having to look at it—and there it is.
And just like that, he knows he’s home.
Something about having [Y/N] in the vicinity of a place so important to him—a place that’s part of him—has his heart feeling full. He pauses for a moment in the doorway, taking it all in, but he’s snapped out of his brief spell of inexplicable happiness when his father comes lumbering out of the door leading to the kitchen.
“George!” his dad exclaims loudly, and just like that all chatter from the room behind him ceases (“They’re here?!” he hears his mother panic). “We didn’t hear you come in!”
”Likely because mum was too busy screaming,” George grins, and walks forward to envelop his father in a hug.
”Ah, yes—Fred arrived half an hour ago and terrified Ron out of his wits with some sort of fake—no, actually, nevermind that! This must be [Y/N].”
Arthur’s eyes have landed on her, and George actually has to give her a little nudge for her to say something. Her eyes widen like she’s surprised at being addressed (as though the entire point of this gathering hadn’t been to get to introduce her), but then her lips break out into a smile and she steps forward to shake his father’s outstretched hand.
”It’s really nice to meet you,” she says, eyes crinkling at the edges. George stands to the side watching the scene unfold, feeling oddly proud.
”Yes, of course!” Arthur nods with remarkable enthusiasm, smiling just as wide. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you! You’re Muggle-born, correct?”
She lets out a tinkling laugh. “Yes, that’s right.”
”Brilliant!” he claps his hands together—but George knows exactly where this is going, so he cuts his father off and says, “I think we can address the function of a rubber duck later over dinner, dad.”
Arthur pauses, seemingly dejected, but then gathers himself and nods. “Oh, right, well, I suppose—“
”[Y/N]!”
And there’s George’s mum, Molly, coming from the kitchen, hurriedly pulling off her oven mitts to rush straight towards [Y/N] and envelop her in a big, warm hug. “Oh!” [Y/N] exclaims, obviously taken a bit by surprise given that the two of them have never met before, but eventually she breaks out into light laughs and hugs her back. [Y/N] meets George’s gaze over Molly’s shoulder; he gives her this encouraging sort of smile, and then jokingly complains, ”Blimey. S’pose I’m not missed here anymore.”
”Oh, quiet, you!” Molly frets, waving a dismissive hand in the air (George laughs) and then pulling away from [Y/N] to grip her by the arms and gush, “You’re far prettier than I could have ever imagined!”
[Y/N] flushes a shade of vibrant pink. “Oh, no—but thank you—“
”Have you gotten your vision checked lately, [Y/N]?” It’s Fred, leaning on the kitchen doorframe with a toy snake dangling from his hand. “Or do you really want to be with Georgey despite his baffling similarities to a mountain troll?"
”We’re twins, you prat.” George smacks the back of Fred’s head.
“Ah, right.” Fred is grinning despite having received a blow to the head. “It’s lovely seeing you, future-sister-in-law.”
Fred and [Y/N] have known each other just as long as she and George have, having gone to Hogwarts at the same time all those years ago. All three of them had bonded over their mutual love for pranks, although [Y/N] had always been their babysitter of sorts—the one who made sure none of their jokes went too far out of line. George loved her for it; loved how considerate and gentle she was despite her undeniable mischief. But he’d only really gotten himself to tell her after the war; one brief visit of hers to the joke shop turned into two, and then three, and then suddenly [Y/N] was always hanging around somewhere in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, helping the business run along. It was Fred who convinced George, only six months ago, to confess his admiration for her after five years of holding himself back.
After the war, George had all the time in the world to take as many risks as he could. So he told her—and now here they are: [Y/N] ruffling Fred’s hair fondly, George trying to fend off his mother’s hands trying to fix his hair (“don’t you think you need a haircut, sweetie?”), and Ron making his grand entrance from behind Fred.
”Ron!” [Y/N] exclaims, catching sight of him, and then jokingly she adds, “I haven’t seen you in ages—last time I saw you you were the size of a Pygmy Puff.”
Ron scoffs out a laugh. “You’re only two years older than me, you know,” he huffs, but lets her hug him, anyway.
Brief introductions are made as Bill and Charlie enter the room. George watches as [Y/N] shakes their hands—Charlie hugs her, as he’s always been big on affection—and just like that George knows that she’s won all of them over, the way she’d done to him. The way she still does to him, after all this time.
Five minutes later they're being ushered into the garden behind the Burrow, where a long wooden table has been set up. There are golden streamers draped all around the bushes and hanging from the branches of trees, but that's hardly what captures George and [Y/N]'s attention first because at the very end of the long table, a large banner is floating in mid-air: one that says "WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!" in glittering silver letters.
George doesn't miss the look on [Y/N]'s face when she sees this; her eyes almost seem to well up with tears, and despite the picture-perfect setting in front of him—despite the golden streamers and the balloons and the faerie lights hanging in mid-air—it's that look on [Y/N]'s face that has his breath catching in his throat and his heart doing odd little double-takes inside his chest.
He loves her, he realizes. It’s nothing new—shouldn't be anything new to him, as he's known it for quite a while now—but still there are moments like this one where he pauses and has to take a while to let it sink in; the fact that the woman next to him, whose smile reminds him of every single happy moment he has ever lived through, loves him just as much as he loves her.
Knowing that is absolutely surreal.
"We didn't expect you to arrive so early!" Molly says, obviously harried as she passes by them bearing a cauldron of steaming soup. “The cookies are still baking—and [Y/N], honey, I sent Ginny upstairs to go fetch your sweater, she should be down any time soon—Ron, Fred, will you stop that!”
The two, who had been wrestling with the toy snake Fred held in his hands earlier, immediately drop their hands to their sides. “T’was Fred who started it,” grumbles Ron.
”And I plan on ending it!” Fred emits some sort of war-cry, but stops when he spots the look on his mother’s face. “Kidding, mum.”
—
It takes a good half-hour or so before the last of the dishes are finally set on the table and everyone is seated. There’s food of all sorts in front of them—treacle tarts, cakes, pudding, pie—and [Y/N], who initially thought she’d feel too nervous to eat anything, eats with ease. Like everyone else around the table, she’s wearing a fuzzy red sweater with her initial sewn in front; a gift to her from Molly. The moment she’d laid eyes on it she knew it was her favorite thing in the entire world.
She tells this to George, who raises his eyebrows and replies snarkily, “I’m gonna have to ask for you to return the necklace I gave you, then.”
”Oh, sod off,” she laughs, rolling her eyes, but she lets him spoon pie into her mouth.
“Gah, get a room!” complains Fred.
”It’s not like they’re snogging,” says Charlie.
”Would you like us to?” grins George, earning him a slap to the shoulder from [Y/N].
”There are children here, George,” she scolds.
”You’re only two years older!” protests Ron.
No one really notices, but the sun has long since sunken below the horizon. Everyone around the table is immersed in chatter; Ron, for example, has been roped into a passionate debate with Fred and George about the true purpose of Pygmy Puffs. (“They only exist to ask for food and jump around and make annoying little noises!” says Ron, to which George responds with, “That sounds like you, Ron.”) [Y/N], meanwhile, is offering an explanation to Arthur about the rubber duck.
“They don’t do much of anything, really. They float and squirt and sometimes they make noises.”
But Arthur looks disappointed, as though he’d been expecting something much more grand. So [Y/N], not wanting to bring down his mood, decides to add, ”I believe they’re also used to keep—um—Grindylows away from your bathwater.”
Mr. Weasley positively beams with joy. “Is that right? I told you, Molly, rubber ducks are magnificent little things!”
Molly gives her husband an exasperated look, but it disappears the moment she turns to [Y/N]. “We’re so glad to have you here, sweetie,” she tells her, reaching over the table to grasp her hand and offering her the most motherly smile [Y/N] has ever seen. “We’ve heard so many good things about you. George speaks so very highly of you—and he was right, you really are perfect for him!"
[Y/N] flushes, smiling. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”
”Oh, no, no, call me Molly,” she laughs, waving a hand in the air. “You’re part of the family now, dear. No need for formalities.”
And [Y/N] does feel like it—like she’s part of this table. This family. Not just the girlfriend of one of their sons but someone who actually belongs.
It’s odd, in a magical sort of way, how all of their random conversations blend together to form one harmonious burst of chatter, how everything and everyone in that table just works. Like puzzle pieces from different sets, she thinks to herself. And they shouldn't fit, but they do.
So this is home for George. This is the place he grew up in. This is where his heart lives.
She can't help the way her eyes stray to him every now and then, noting the sheer joy reflected in his eyes, the way the smile on his lips never really goes away. How, even when Ron flicks a strawberry at his face—even when George threatens to send a whole army of pygmy puffs after him—there's still that joyful glint in his eyes.
With the end of winter right around the corner, surrounded by the family that has welcomed her with open arms, holding the hand of her very favorite person underneath table, fireflies flitting around above them as laughter echoes around the table: [Y/N] feels safe. Happy.
So this is home.
—
The next morning, [Y/N] and George find themselves walking along the edge of the woods where meadow rues grow, a little ways away from the Burrow. They walk unhurried, the soles of their feet swishing against the blades of grass with each step, hands hanging loosely intertwined between them.
They’d woken up before anyone else, when the sun had just barely begun to rise. George had told her to "Get up, I want to take you somewhere" and admittedly she'd whined a little, claiming to need five more minutes of sleep, but George, laughing, threw her over his shoulder and threatened to carry her all the way there if she didn't oblige.
But now, she's glad she came with.
At one point she stops walking, lifts her face to the sky and closes her eyes against the warmth of the sun, taking a deep breath and soaking in everything that the morning wants to bring her. George watches her without question, a fond little smile already tugging on the edges of his lips without him even realizing. [Y/N] is beautiful in the sunlight—or any light at all, actually. George isn't entirely convinced someone like her—someone so breathtakingly beautiful and gentle and patient—would want someone like him. But when he tugs on her hand, turning her around to face him, and when he cups her jaw and guides her closer to press their mouths together, she lets him. She doesn't even think about it. Just melts into him like it's the only thing she knows how to do.
And then she pulls back slightly but stays close, runs a palm down the length of George’s arm and links their fingers together.
"It’s not much," he tells her, voice uncharacteristically quiet. A little unsure. "But it's home." Because, now that the excitement from yesterday has faded, George knows what his house could look like to someone who hasn't lived there all their life—knows that it looks messy, like pieces of it were thrown together haphazardly. It’s not a manor. Nothing like the kind of houses you see featured on Witch Weekly. He knows that [Y/N] isn't the type to care, but still—
"I love it," she pulls away, throwing her head back in an actual laugh—the kind that reminds George of everything good in the world. "I love this place, George. And your brothers and Ginny and your parents. Yesterday was.." she pauses, calming down a little, taking in a deep breath as she squeezes his hand in her own. "It was magical."
Quietly, with her eyes skittering away to look back at the Burrow behind them, she tells him, "I'm really happy, George."
George knows he'll remember this moment forever. The day is just beginning, and he is standing on the edge of a forest-line with a girl who looks at him like in spite of however many weird things he does, whatever dumb things he says, however embarrassing and difficult and painful some days might be, George is still worthy of being hers.
#harry potter#harry potter oneshot#harry potter oneshots#harry potter imagine#harry potter imagines#harry potter x reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fanfic#george weasley#george weasley oneshots#george weasley oneshot#george weasley imagine#george weasley imagines#george weasley x reader#george weasley fanfic#george weasley fanfiction#fred weasley#weasley twins#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley imagine
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(1/2) Sanji Vinsmoke
(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ
DBSB, 3272, nigga, that's my potna dem
G-L-O-B-E, A-B-B, nigga, that's my potna dem
Softly touching up the edges, the orangish, red hair color was now apart of you. Just staring into the mirror as you let go a bit of a smile. The only time you smile when you look at a mirror is when you're staring at your face... any more inches down and it's like you could just puke.
"I like that color on you (y/n)!"
Glancing towards the phone that was on the sink , you just gave a kissing noise. The woman on the other side of the screen happened to have the same color hair, though hers was natural.
"Thats what's up Nami, it was a lotta money... but...Sanji brought it fa me..." You muttered that last part, still feeling bad about even talking about him.. It caused the female to sigh, she knew your problems.. and your issues that you face everyday. Nami is caring, as well as the other female who happened to be in the call. Robin, and Nami had always been on this agonizing journey..
Their bodies were beautiful, just perfect. While you, felt as if you'd be better off covering up with a jacket. It's bad, really... Sanji is your lover, you've accepted to live with him and yet you still cover yourself up anytime he's around. A jacket is always in arms length.
Once, Sanji almost walked in on you changing and in result in hating yourself.. you immediately threw the bedsheet over you. This obviously made Sanji feel some type of way but at the same time he respects you. As strong as you are, as much as you deal with just being a black woman.. he respects you...
Sanji hasn't touched you in any way, not sexually, nor in a domestic type way. His hands are always to himself.. as much as his insides hated it. All Sanji begs to do is touch and love on you. Alas, you overthink and wonder why Sanji is even with you..
"You neeed to tell him how you feel, (y/n)... the situation will only become worse... Your relationship is so strong that sex was never needed.. you're a beautiful woman... You're unique, and fun to be around... give it a chance, yes?" Robin's soft voice echoed slightly in your brain, just sighing out in retaliation. Nami's face showing that she definitely agreed.. but it's just not that simple..
You wish it was that simple.
"(Y/n)-swan~~~~ I'm home!"
A jolt rushed through you as the look you gave the two females happened to be a rushed one.
"Imma talk to y'all later Ight..?" You gently spoke before ending the call as quickly as you could. Moving from the bathroom and you grabbed your black jacket. It was quite huge on you and it had 2pac's picture on the back of it, his name on the front. This jacket originally came from your brother, but you claimed it of course...
Throwing your phone on the bed, you gently walked into the hall and went downstairs. The house you both lived in was a dream. Sanji isn't a poor man... he has his own restaurant, and it rivals with Gordon Ramsey's restaurant... come on..
"Hey, you feelin' ight..?" You gently spoke as you were finally off that last step. Your blonde man standing in front of the door as he blew some of the cigarette smoke. It was something you didn't mind.. the house was big so.. not everything smelt like it...
Though seeing your beautiful, slightly chubby face and your beautiful new colored hair made him die inside. His throat and lungs giving up on him as he choked and coughed. A huge blush rushing quickly to his cheeks and ears... Even now he just.. he gets all school girl on you.
"Babe! Babe! You Ight..!? Aye..." you kinda panicked actually, just softly touching his arm and moving to pat him on his back. The coughing fit he was having eventually surpassed and you were now holding onto his arm. His arm happened to be between your breasts.. he could feel it, he didn't need to see it..
Thing is, you didn't even realize...
"I'm fine.. it's just, you're so beautiful... I bought that right..? Glad that was a thing.." Sanji rambled off to himself as he then finally stared at you and chuckled. That genuine smile causing your insides to twist and turn.. your face was burning up, but your ancestors gave you the ability to not show the blood rushing to your cheeks..
"Oh.. you like it..? Thanks baby... thanks for buyin it fa me..." your voice soft as you got on your tippy toes and wrapped those arms around his neck.. well you tried.. he had to lean down a bit.. his lips connecting against yours and all you could taste was cigarette smoke, but it was this hint of sweetness.. probably from whatever he cooked today.. nevertheless, you were used to it.
The kiss was short like always, and Sanji didn't dare touch you. His hands weren't inching whatsoever, as much as he wanted to... he didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.
"Oh, since you worked today, d'want me to make you sum to eat?... or.."
"Actually, I wanted us to go to my restaurant and eat... we haven't done that in awhile." Sanji's gentle smile and that shrug made you feel completely bad. The two of you rarely go anywhere together.. it's just that you hate the fact that Sanji has to go anywhere with you...
A little smile appeared on your face, it seemed a bit forced but as good as your acting skills were, it probably passed. Fidgeting on the heels of your feet, you kinda shrugged as well. The hoodie that you had on suddenly felt tight and honestly you hated it. Did you look huge in this too...?
"I-.. Ight.."
(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ
What in your right mind possessed you to say 'ight'?! Just flailing around in your walk in closet. As many clothes you had, as many outfits.. you never touched them. They collect dust every day. But that's nothing compared to what you were doing now, the clothes being scattered across the floor as you looked at your final option..
"I'm not goin..."
The words you spoke made your eyes kind of tear up, just staring at the soft, white dress. It was soft and it wasn't tight, but at the same time.. it clings to your skin. It shows every bump and curve. Not to mention how it had little slits on the side.. to show more of your thighs that were already showing... Nope.. just Nope..
Though another bomb was going to come rushing down, because how the hell were you going to tell Sanji..? What were you going to say? Jesus Christ...
Actually, there is this one thing... yes.. for sure..
"Yeah... it just started... can you get me them pills in the cabinet? Ion wanna move... we can literally go next week though.." you gently spoke when you were now in front of Sanji in the bedroom.
It was odd, just a few hours ago you were perfectly fine... not to mention how your period just went off a week ago. The blonde keeps notice of these things, he's not a dumb male who doesn't pay attention to his girlfriend. He's only collecting notes, he'll go with your maze run for now.. but in the end.. he'll find the way.
"So.. you're just up for me makin somethin..? I can teach you the gumbo you wanted to learn..." you gently spoke, only because the atmosphere was kind of tense? Or maybe it was just you... Sanji was laying on his back and he was smoking like usual.. but it seemed like he was thinking hard about something.. and it made you want to go shit.
Have he finally had enough..?
"I thought you'd never ask (y/n)-Chan" Sanji gently purred with those same hearts in his eyes as he decided to follow you out the bedroom and to the kitchen. There was some things Sanji just didn't know how to make. Yes he's an amazing chef and you're sure he'll get this in one go.. but he doesn't know much about.. let's say : black people dishes.
You've just been teaching him about the wide range of things.. and he's been having a blast. As well as being enamored with your aave...
Sanji just loves being with you... didn't matter what it was.. he's obsessed with you, even though his touch is limited..
(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ
The night had already been here, though it was now 11 pm, the house being ripped of all its lights that were on. Sanji made sure everything was cleaned up because it wasn't a surprise that you were knocked out in bed already. His own attire consisted of just his underwear... which you didn't mind but that's probably because you wore that jacket to sleep every night..
Sanji snapped out of his thoughts and he noticed the light to your closet as was still on. His body maneuvering over to go inside and turn it off.. though.. the mountain of clothes restricted him. His eyes widening as the cigarette from his mouth had dropped ever so gently to the floor.
The closet was a mess.
(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ Masterlist 2
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WIP Ask Game Tag
Oh, great cyptid of the deepest chaos, please send me your favorite snippet of the Ashen Earth. Or alternatively, what you've loved about it so far. Or alternative alternatively, both.
Ohhhh I'm gonna tag @kii-writes for this one too for ALSO asking about my favorite part of The Ashen Earth 🥰
What I've loved about it so far: diving into the idea that what is considered good and right and moral can be downright dangerous, as well as what's bad and wrong and sad can be good. A major theme is "things aren't always what they seem" and in regards to the way my magic system works, it's just *chef kiss*
The system is pretty basic (light/dark, life/death type magic), but neither are inherently bad - it's what the user does with the power. One of the major players does their best to use the dark magic for good ("death as a door/threshold, not a tragedy" type stuff, death as a precursor to rebirth, etc), and when the people come after her for it, she WITHOLDS that power, and people learn that sometimes remaining alive is worse than death 😌
A favorite snippet: this is actually part of a short story that is the first physically published glimpse into the world I've built! Banestown is a northern city just below the Spine, the mountain range that splits the continent, and is a city founded by and for mercenaries 🗡️
The days blur into a steady rhythm of ride, eat, and sleep. With every passing sunrise, the world around them grows colder, and mud gives way to frozen ground. By the time they reach Banestown, about three weeks after setting out from Aethrun, the ground is completely covered with snow. Ilyn elects to stay in their rented quarters. It’s quieter there, and her wound still aches.
Felix hasn’t been here in ages, but very little about the city of sellswords has changed. Though it is only mid-afternoon, raucous laughter spills out of taverns. In the city center, a pair of young boys attracts a circle of onlookers who cheer on their fistfight. Days-old bodies hang from the gallows, and no one pays any attention to the crows that descend upon them.
“This is disgusting,” Moira says.
“This is home,” Felix says.
Banestown took him in as another stray and raised him like any other boy. It didn’t matter that he bled each month, or often didn’t bother binding his chest as many of the city’s women did. They fed and housed him when he asked their doctor to take a knife to his breasts, and looked the other way when his magic came to light.
That was the way of things: if you see something, say nothing.
Fuck, he’s missed the chaos.
“Is it always like this?” Moira asks, staring at the hanged men. “So… brutal?”
“Scared of a little violence?” Felix asks.
“I’m not.”
He leans close, bares his teeth, and whispers, “Boo.”
“Felix.”
“Moira,” Felix mocks, but there is a genuine spark of fear in her eyes when he looks closer. He places a hand between her shoulders and steers her away from the square, down a side street. “Honestly, it’s not that bad.”
“It’s horrible.”
“We haven’t all been treated to a life of luxury.”
Moira looks away, head bowed. “Luxury isn’t all you might think.”
“Can’t hear you past the sound of tinkling crystal and clinking gold coins,” Felix says. He regrets it when he sees Moira flinch. Though her cockiness annoys him, fear is a worse look. “Hey, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Moira’s smile is razor thin and just as sharp. “We weren’t all raised alongside this kind of people.”
Felix stops dead in his tracks. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Moira walks a few more paces before realizing he’s no longer at her side, and looks back. “What are you doing?”
“This kind? What, mercenaries? The fucking poor?”
Moira huffs. “Not… That’s not what I meant.”
Felix raises a brow, waiting.
“You know, the…” She gestures vaguely to the street. “People who do bad things?”
Felix strides forward, brushing callously past her. “I hate to break it to you, Holiness, but we all do bad things. Even you.”
“In pursuit of—” She rushes to keep up, boots clacking hard on the cobblestones. “I try not to, but sometimes to keep the peace—”
“Peace does fuck all for a man with no food in his belly and no money in his pockets,” Felix says. He turns and grabs her shoulders, staring deep into her eyes as his nose wrinkles. “Fighting and fucking are the two most honest ways to make a living, no matter what you and your ivory towers think. Lucky for me, I’ve always been good at both.”
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Wheel of Time: pettiness, and other things
OK OK, so I’ve watched the episodes.
The petty:
Slate roofs in the Two Rivers? *gasp!!!* Cenn Buie would like a word.
Tam was using matches to light that lantern? We all know it was Aludra who invented those things!
Tinker’s costumes aren’t eye-wrenching enough. My eyes demand to be wrenched. I know bright colors exist. Look at Rand’s shirt!
The "as a book reader, these are haunting me at night” reactions:
Ta’veren detectors exist? Uhhuh...
Moraine just. straight up tells everyone she’s Aes Sedai. And just. straight up tells them (and the whole village to boot?) that she thinks one of them is the Dragon Reborn?
And the village just. watches them go? Have fun storming the castle! Bye, we’re not going to worry about you guys getting kidnapped or these Trollocs that are definitely still within sight.
The White Tower turning away a potential candidate just because they’re poor? ... In retrospect I can reason that as “She’s a wilder who’s too old.” (Or, as someone below noted, she was too weak.)
Parent’s like Mat’s existing in Emond’s Field. The Women’s Circle/Village Council I know would come down hard on Mat’s father, who would come out the other end with his tail between his legs. Part of the reason why the Two Rivers was stable independently was they did a good job policing themselves.
Wolves chasing after Perrin? lolwhat. Bruh, wolves really don’t care that much about talking humans.
The channeling in general being all handwavy. I guess it’s more “visual” but (a) it’s slow and (b) that’s what the weaves are for?
Stuff I liked:
Lantern scene and Tam’s speech. Good addition to Bel Tine traditions and wonderful words for the woolhead to remember. *chef’s kiss*
“The Wheel of Time turns and ages come and pass..” Slightly ruined by my great confusion over everyone just watching the party leave but listen. She said it. She said the thing.
All the pretty pretty mountains and valleys. I was hoping, when I heard they were filming in the Czech Republic, that it would be like New Zealand for the Lord of the Rings, and I’d say it is.
The Manetheren song. It’s very Hobbit-esque, breaking out into song. A++++
Thom’s song about, one can assume, Lews Therin. (I’m very cheap for music in general, what can I say?)
Mandarb!! I’m pretty sure we’ve killed off Bela, but we still got Mandarb and Aldieb.
Thom and Mat’s whole scene around the dead Aiel. This Thom is definitely... different than book!Thom. Not bad different. Just odd different. Gravelly voice, more threatening, less friendly, less of a music snob from what we’ve seen. But here we see the similarities. Just as dangerous, just as knowledgeable about the world, with that soft spot for a kid in trouble. “May your soul find water and shade” indeed.
Liandrin is already infuriating. ARRRRRRGH.
Nyneave showing up in different circumstances but it’s almost the exact same reaction of: “How did you find us?” “What, like it’s hard?” lksdgjasdgdfh.
All in all, I am bitching a lot (See above for subset of bitchiness) but I am enjoying myself. I know because (a) I want to see more, which is the main criteria really, and (b) it is currently occupying the same thrilling space in my head that the very best of Doctor Who does.
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pairing: miya atsumu x f!reader
tags: fluff, strangers to lovers
word count: 2.2k
Summary: You think of all the different versions you get of Atsumu throughout the day
Nights with Atsumu were unpredictable. Your heart always skipped a beat whenever you received one of his “are you free tonight?” texts, excitement never failing to course through your veins.
Miya Atsumu was an adventure.
He had been that way from the very first night you met him, crashing into him at a music festival your friends had dragged you to.
You had been lost for the past hour - separated from your group when you had mistakenly taken the wrong turn while trying to look for the restrooms. You’ve tried calling them time and time again, but the sheer amount of people at the event must have been doing something to the phone lines. None of your calls or texts were going through.
You mumbled a hurried apology, and you could practically feel the way he raked his gaze over your appearance. Though, there was nothing presentable about your current state; your hair (previously curled and styled carefully) was pulled up into a messy bun, dirt from the festival grounds stained your shoes and pants, and the expression on your face was nothing short of stressed.
“You lost, hun?” He had asked. While you would usually cringe at the pet name coming from a strangers mouth, the slight drawl of his accent made it sound sweet, and you couldn’t help but nod.
“It’s my first time coming to this festival - I have no idea where anything is.”
He nodded in understanding. “It can get pretty confusing if ya don’t know what you’re looking for,” he sighed out, reaching a hand out for you to take, “Come on, I’ll help you find em.”
Even then, having known the man for merely two minutes, you were never hesitant in taking his hand.
He quickly told his own group of the current situation, setting up a meet up spot for the end of the night in case Atsumu wasn’t able to find his way back to them in time.
(That was smart. You guys should have done that.)
You wondered why the blonde boy bothered to take the time out of his night to help you. Hadn’t he spent his own money to be here with his friends?
When you had asked him this question, he simply shrugged. “It wouldn’t be right of me to leave a beautiful girl all alone and lost in this huge festival now, would it?”
You didn’t find your friends for the rest of the night. You had instead spent it with Atsumu, jumping from stage to stage, claiming “maybe we’ll find them there?” but really, his favorite artist was up and he didn’t really want to miss it.
It shocked you how natural it felt to be with him; easy conversation flowed naturally, and the initial mission of his company was quickly forgotten, replaced instead with the dizzying thrill of his fingers wrapped around your wrist to make sure he didn’t lose you in the crowd.
“This is my favorite band,” he yelled into your ear, twirling you in circles as you danced along to the beat pummeling out of the speakers.
“I can see why!” You smiled at him, and the freedom you were feeling in that moment, dancing with a stranger that was quickly becoming a friend, was a better high than any drug.
Atsumu couldn’t dance at all - this was something you had pointed out during the second set you had watched together - but there was something in the way he just stuck his tongue out at you and continued to flail his limbs in some semblance of a rhythm with such confidence that you couldn’t help but find charming.
“Y/N!”
The frantic crying of your name made you whip your head around, and you see your best friend running over to you.
“We’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
You let your best friend scold you for going missing for four hours, pushing down the feeling of embarrassment as Atsumu snickered at you.
“Thanks for keeping me company,” you said, turning to him one last time before finally joining your original pack.
“Anytime,” he smiled, then pulled his phone out of his pocket before handing it to you, “Mind returning the favor some day?”
The grin on your face was brighter than any of the lights surrounding the stage, quickly entering your number and saving it.
It wasn’t even two days after the festival before you received your first invitation out from Atsumu.
There were nights when he took you out to his favorite bar on a Thursday night because shots were 2-for-1 on Thursdays. The two of you would always run into more than one for Atsumu’s friends, and you were more than happy to allow them to indulge you in one or two embarrassing stories of Atsumu. The smile on your face grew wider each time his blush would deepen, and you didn’t know you could find him more endearing than you already do.
There were nights when he would whisk you away to a secret spot in a part of the city you had never been to. “It’s a little bit of a hike,” he’d warn you. You’d have half a mind to reprimand him for letting you wear your new shoes knowing the path would be dirty, but you were shut up by the views. Atsumu came prepared with a blanket to lay down on, taking out snacks and drinks from the backpack he was carrying. Your heart clenched at his thoughtfulness, laying down to stare at the stars peppering the sky. “The moon looks really full,” you said. “Yeah, just like my heart is for you,” he cooed. You would share a laugh, shoving him slightly, but hoping with everything that he meant it.
There were nights when he would take you to visit his brother’s onigiri shop. He would always take you either at closing time or after, ensuring that the three of you had the place to yourself. You could feel this to be some sort of test - test of what, you weren’t sure but you knew you wanted to pass it. Osamu would bring out off the menu flavors, using the two of you as his test subjects. You and Atsumu would exaggerate your judgements, commenting as if you were judges on Top Chef. “The consistency of the rice provided a good mouth feel,” you commented, rubbing a hand on your chin. “The flavors meld together perfectly, creating a refined taste suitable for any palate,” Atsumu replies, and the two of you would burst out laughing, Osamu rolling his eyes and asking you to be serious.
It was after one of those nights, belly and heart full from the nonstop eating and laughing. Atsumu walked you all the way up to your door, saying it’s much too late for you to be on your own. With your key in the door, you turned to say your good bye, only to be met by the softness of atsumu’s lips.
Nights were when Miya Atsumu let you into his world.
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
Afternoons were rarely spent with Atsumu.
You would think that sharing an apartment with the blonde setter would afford you more quality time, but he mostly spent his afternoons chasing his dreams.
You’ll never forget the afternoon the two of you had found out he had made onto his first pro-volleyball team; he was officially an MSBY Jackal. Happy tears were shed, on your part, but more so on his. Excitement stamped all over his face as he claimed he still had so much work to do.
You never held it against him when he came home late at night, the only interaction you’d have would be the kiss he placed on your forehead before climbing into his side of the bed. You didn’t mind that even though you were now living together, this was the most time you two would spend apart. It wasn’t like you were just waiting around; you had a job you loved and were dedicated to.
He never let you missed him too much, though.
“Are we almost there?” Atsumu gasped out, and you just threw your head back and laughed.
“What’s wrong? I thought volleyball players were supposed to have monstrous thighs or whatever?”
Atsumu grumbled. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t exhausting to scale a damn mountain!”
“Always so dramatic,” you mused, skipping ahead of him on the trail. Atsumu had a rare day off from practice, and insisted on doing whatever you wanted for the day. He was hoping you were going to say ‘let’s cuddle and stay in!’ Or ‘I want to go to that cafe I saw on Insta!’
But no, you went with “I want to go on a hike!”
It was his own fault, really. Ever since he would take you to look at the stars, you made it your mission to find all the little gems in your city.
“I swear to god, I’m gonna faint,” Atsumu placed the back of his hand on his forehead, “Please tell me we’re almost to the top!”
You grabbed his hand, pulling him up the last few steps of the trail.
“Ta da,” you sang out, out stretching your arms to present the view from the top.
Atsumu took on a deep breath and looked at the view. From the top of the trail, all that surrounded the two of you was the color green. Green leaves from towering trees that covered the face of the mountains that surrounded you. Green shrubs that littered around the forest floor, creating a lush carpet of foliage that stretched as far as you could see. In the space between the mountain ranges, Atsumu could see a hint of the ocean that lies beyond, and he could almost taste the salty air that always made his hair wavy.
The beauty of the earth surrounded him, reminding him of life flourishing all around, and all he could really look at was you.
The color of your eyes that sparkled like uncut gems when caught by the golden rays of the sun that was now nearing its highest peak in the sky could rival the most vibrant green nature could produce. The smile on your face was more blinding than the summer sun. All he could see was the beauty of the love that he knows only you could give him.
Afternoons were rarely spent with Atsumu, but he’s thankful for every chance he gets to be part of your world.
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・��
Mornings with Miya Atsumu were lazy, and intimate.
The habit of early mornings were hard to break, and regardless of whether you set an alarm or not, the both of you would stir awake at the crack of dawn.
You could feel Atsumu’s heated breath on the back of your neck as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “Good morning,” he would mumble, voice still thick with last nights sleep, dripping into your ears like fresh honey.
“Good morning,” you would reply back, turning around to bury your face into his chest. You loved the way he would always pull you closer, as if there was no wya you could be close enough, trying to fuse you into his own body. You don’t care that you can’t really breathe in this position - there was no where else you would rather be.
Though you were willing to stay that way forever, it was only a matter of time before life interrupts peace and demands to be lived. After a few more soft kisses placed on any bare skin lips could get too, maybe a few fingers brushing through your rats nest of a hair, Atsumu always was the first get up out of bed. You’d try to beg him for a few more minutes, but he’d make you laugh and say “I’d love to doll, but my bladders bout to burst all over our sheets,” and you can’t do anything but laugh and let him go.
Atsumu always showered first since his days started earlier, and you would make your way downstairs to make coffee for the both of you. You usually drank it black, but you made Atsumu’s with a little extra cream. He never asks you to, but you always packed him a lunch and snacks to take to practice, leaving little notes with words of affirmation to get him through the day. The look of pure admiration and love you get when you simply hand him a lunch box, thermos, a peck on the lips, and a prayer for safety; you think this must be true happiness.
You walk back up to the bathroom to start your morning routine, and feel warmth spread all over when you see that he’s set up your toothbrush on the sink with a glob of toothpaste on top and a little cup of mouthwash prepared and ready for you to use.
You loved Miya Atsumu at all hours of the day, but mornings just might be your favorite.
In the morning, Miya Atsumu was just for you.
#miya atsumu#atsumu x reader#atsumu#atsumu x you#atsumu x y/n#Miya#atsumu fluff#Miya Atsumu fluff#Miya Atsumu scenarios#Miya Atsumu headcanons#Miya Atsumu x reader#Miya Atsumu x you#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! scenarios#haikyuu x reader#hq hc#hq#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu headcanons#hq!!
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(Chef HC AU)
Auditory Hallucination — Funguypiano
After failing to earn money while working at a well-known charity fundraiser, HC was kicked from the orphanage, on the streets at thirteen years old. He was taken in by an older restaurant owner who gave him a place to stay, work, and taught him how to cook.
HC worked his way up the ranks of the restaurant industry, cooking and cleaning in various kitchens. There would be days when HC felt like he was the walking dead. His feet would have blisters, his hands would have rough calluses and burn marks; his heart felt like it was beating on its last whim.
Years later, HC was accepted into his top choice culinary school at the young age of twenty-four, The restaurant owner who took him in had passed away two months into his study, and since then, HC has been alone.
He had no one to come home to, no one to share his successes and concerns with, no one to look forward to seeing every day.
It’s no secret how vigorous and challenging culinary school is. In addition to weathering the grueling working conditions, hours, and level of difficulty, HC continued to cope with the scars leftover from his abusive parents, exploitative environment in the orphanage, and other chefs he was forced to work with.
After surviving culinary school, HC’s life turned very formulaic, waking up at the crack of dawn, working for sixteen hour shifts, and going to bed late at night—only to repeat the process again.
There were days when HC didn’t want to get out of bed. Days when he didn’t want to open his eyes and look at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, getting ready for another day where he worked his ass off to achieve his future goal of being a successful chef with his own business.
Though he met several dependable colleagues along the way, HC clawed his way up to the top of the mountain, bare-handed with a tired soul.
Life was better when the restaurant he opened finally gained traction and popularity in the big city. Another half decade whizzed past and then HC had Michelin stars under his belt and numerous locations in different cities.
But it wouldn’t be until he managed to cross paths with XL again—the person who had shown HC kindness and mercy for a crucial mistake—that HC’s spirit would begin to lift and shed its weariness.
There are still days where a long day at work will have HC recalling his junior chef days, or even his time at the orphanage. HC’s face of steel remains intact as he interacts with his employees, clients, and customers, but whenever he finds time to himself—in the bathroom or in the car—HC feels like his head will explode, clutching his head in agony.
Only one year after getting to know XL and having the honor of dating him, they have moved into HC’s bigger apartment, where there is plenty of room for XL’s things, and of course, XL himself.
Now, HC has someone to come home to.
When HC turns the key to his apartment, pushing the door open with a deep sigh, the clanging of dishwater greets him. It’s a sound he’s heard nearly everyday for years, a sound he’s very much used to.
After he slips his shoes and coat off, HC walks into his kitchen to see XL laboring away at the stove, wearing his ferret-patterned apron, hair pulled back into a long braid.
“San Lang, you’re home!?” XL yelps as he catches sight of his boyfriend out of the corner of his eye. HC barely has time to nod before XL comes bounding over, glomping onto the taller man, kissing his cheek.
“Hi, Gege,” HC says quietly, automatically wrapping his arms around XL’s waist. “I missed you.”
“I missed San Lang too. I always do,” XL says with a light laugh.
When he goes to pull away, XL realizes HC’s grip doesn’t loosen. XL then notices the sudden dampness on his shoulder where HC’s face is buried into the fabric.
“San Lang!? Are you okay?” XL exclaims, worried. HC’s slightly trembling form answers his question.
XL gasps, wasting no time to pull HC over to the couch, sitting them down side-by-side. He physically extracts his boyfriend from his shoulder, hands coming up to cup HC’s cheeks.
Tears well up one reddened and puffy eye, accompanied by a wobbly lip.
“San Lang...”
A hitched sob.
“I’m- I’m s-sorry, G-Gege,” HC hiccups, curling in on himself. “I d-don’t know why I’m like this right now.”
“No no no, there’s nothing wrong with crying,” XL whispers softly, thumbs wiping away the stray tears. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
HC shakes his head out of habit. He grasps onto XL’s hands that cup his cheeks, nuzzling into the gentle touch. HC squeezes his eye shut, then reluctantly opens it to meet XL’s sweet eyes.
“I’m just so t-tired,” HC mutters hoarsely, voice cracking at the end. XL nods in understanding, lips parted and eyes misty.
Tired meaning exhausted.
Tired meaning sad.
Tired meaning helpless.
During the very rare instances that HC cries in front of XL, XL can’t help but cry himself in response to seeing HC’s tears. One, because it doesn’t happen often, and the fact that HC sheds tears means he’s barely holding on. Two, because seeing his boyfriend in any sort of pain or anguish affects XL just as much.
HC’s pain is XL’s pain.
HC purses his lips. Tears continue to steam down his face when he blinks rapidly several times.
“Let me-“ a watery sniffle. “-let me turn off the stove. I can put dinner in the fridge for later,” XL shakily says, rubbing small circles into HC’s temple. “You can wait for me in bed. When I finish putting everything away, I’ll c-come in to hold you, okay?”
XL touches their foreheads together, tears glistening in his eyes. HC hates that he’s made XL upset with his own grief, knows it is unfair to burden him like this.
HC has been a burden his whole life.
“Okay,” HC whispers, praying that this horrible, tired feeling would subside soon, if just to let himself breathe easier.
Now that XL is by his side, HC is sure it will.
(XL)
#tgcf#heaven official's blessing#hualian#hualian au#xie lian#hua cheng#cerdrabbles#tian guan ci fu#HC: hi- / Me: I shall project onto you so damn hard
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Be Who You Are (No Compromise)
A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU
Chapter 6: Growing Pains
AO3 Link
Words: 16340
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Alex POV
…
Alex was surprisingly calm. The pressed white dress shirt was cool against his skin, the slim-fitting blue vest with subtle gold embroidery a calming pressure over his chest. He was anxious, of course, but not nearly as much as he would’ve expected, given the situation. He felt free, light…
And then he was drowning.
His lungs closed, refusing the air he tried to gulp down, throwing away a lifeline. Everything burned, like fiery needles stabbing into him at the speed of sound, not enough to bleed but somehow even more painful. His vision blurred, dizziness or tears, he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t hear his own breathing, or lack thereof, over the pounding of his heart in his ears. Everything was wrong.
Then, the pounding of his heart silenced, his head felt lighter than air. He couldn’t move. He felt like he was in a cloud, no, like he was a cloud, floating in the sky but losing parts of himself as he passed, unable to control what happened, a bystander left helpless to watch havoc.
Alex tried to move, tried to think, but his brain felt like ice, flaming with shivers as he shook, his lungs leaving no room for air between the panic.
Something is going to go wrong, he thought. He had a feeling in his gut that fueled his panic, telling him that someone would get hurt tonight, or that something horrible would happen, a feeling he couldn’t shake no matter how unrealistic it might’ve been. He knew Caleb wouldn’t try anything at the ball. It was a huge event, and tons of people would be there.
He couldn’t sort out his thoughts, though, so he had no choice but to let this panic attack run its course. It felt surreal but painfully there, like when you’re so cold that you feel like you’re on fire. His hands shook, and he barely registered the salty tears coating his lips as he paced across the floor, back and forth until there was a groove in the rug.
He made his way back to his bed, shaking, barely able to get the breath to fake three sneezes. He almost worried that it didn’t work, but then his door opened, Luke abandoning his post and sinking down next to him. He felt Luke’s arms wrap around him, and the touch immediately grounded him. Rather than a helpless cloud, he was the icy snow crusting the tops of the mountains behind the palace, unable to do anything but laying a foundation for something. And as Luke’s hands traced circles on his shoulder blades, he became the water rushing down the cliff sides, rapid and unpredictable, his breathing quickening but the panic subsiding. And when Luke pressed a gentle, calming kiss to his temple, Alex’s breathing finally slowed, his lungs letting in the air they so craved, and he calmed as the rushing water flowed into a clear pond, each reassuring touch from his best friend like a lily floating on the surface.
He could hear, finally aware of Luke’s soft whispers of “it’ll be okay,” and “just breathe.”
“Sorry,” he choked out, seeing Luke shake his head out of the corner of his eye.
“Don’t be,” he said. “This is a nerve-racking thing. I’m super nervous too.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Alex said dryly, wiping his tears.
“Really?” Luke challenged, a quiver in his voice, extending a hand in front of Alex, which was trembling. “You’re not alone, I promise.”
“Thanks.” Alex tore a hand through his hair, taking his turn to wrap Luke in a hug and let him let out his emotions. He felt him shake against his chest, but his breathing stayed relatively even. Alex was never great at the whole physical contact thing. His parents were never touchy, to the point where hugs were always a rarity. But Luke was a touchy person, and soon Alex was comfortable with his spontaneous embraces and casual, platonic affection.
“Okay,” Luke finally said. “It’s almost time. Let’s get ourselves fixed up.” Alex nodded, squeezing him tighter before letting go. They both wandered to the bathroom, gently wiping their faces of tears and fixing their hair. Alex tugged on his sleeves, eliminating any wrinkles, and readjusted his snug vest.
“Okay,” he breathed. “I’m ready.”
“Me too.”
They both knew it was a lie. But their steps were steady as they walked to the ballroom.
…
The food was delicious, especially the dessert, and Alex’s cheeks flushed as he wondered if Willie had made it. The expertly piped frosting seemed familiar, and he was almost sure that it was he who had carefully crafted it.
And if he got emotional over a beautifully piped flower because of the slight possibility that it was made by his crush, no he didn’t.
Eventually, the dancing started, and Alex had to suffer through. He plastered on an unconvincing smile and did his best to waltz around the ballroom with random Nobility who were chatting non-fucking-stop about how excited he must be for the marriage, and how was he liking it in Dahlia, and did he mind the cold, and what his relationship with Julie was like. Soon, he’d had it, and made some lame excuse about feeling a bit light-headed. Thankfully, he’d been able to ditch them and sit down along the side of the room.
Reggie plopped down next to him, sitting sideways with his arm draped over the back of the chair.
“Tired of the Nobles prying?” he assumed. Alex nodded, snorting.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that they have no gaydar, but it’s still super annoying being asked about my supposed girlfriend,” he added. “But playing heterosexual is still a pain in the ass.”
“Tell me about it,” Reggie agreed. “Every time I have an interview, it’s all, ‘any special lady in your life?’ or ‘have you taken an interest in any ladies of different kingdoms?’ but never ‘what’s your favorite pizza topping’ or ‘why are you the amazing bisexual that you are?’” Alex nodded sarcastically.
“Of course.”
“I know I joke,” Reggie added, “but I feel for you, man. It must be super hard.”
“Yeah. And I do appreciate the attempts to lighten the mood, too.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
…
It was nearly eleven when the screaming started.
Alex’s heart jumped to his throat, his stomach plummeted, and he simultaneously felt like everything was happening at once, and like it was moving in slow motion.
He remembered the sound of people running. Cries of the few children in attendance. Shouts of furious Nobility. Hushed, terrified breathing of the council members. Caleb’s velvety, disgusting voice as he lounged on Ray’s throne. The pounding of his heart in his ears.
But what he remembered most vividly was the glint of the daggers pressed against each of the council members’ throats.
“Why?” someone asked. It took a few seconds for Alex to realize that he was the one who’d spoken. Caleb quirked an eyebrow and gave him the side-eye.
“Why what?” Alex was shocked by his sudden swell of angry confidence.
“You know damn well what I mean. Why are you doing this? We’ve been allies for a century, and you’re going to try to overthrow us and put daggers at the throats of our council members?”
“You know, Alexander, it really is adorable how you talk about Dahlia as if it’s your country. You are, until the wedding, the Tamborian prince.” Caleb twirled an extra dagger around his fingers.
“That doesn’t change the fact that what you’re doing is wrong, and you know it. You just want more power, clearly, but do you really think people will stand for this and accept you as their leader? Do you really think that anyone with half a mind will be okay with this?”
“Alexander, the beauty of youth also comes with naivete. I wouldn’t expect you to understand yet. But the fact of the matter is that, in life, you must deal with growing pains. This will all be for the better.”
“No,” Julie interrupted, “it won’t. There is a huge difference between growing pains and whatever the hell you’re trying to do, and you know it.”
Before Alex could add to what she said, he saw the back door of the ballroom open silently, revealing Lilian - the tall, dark-haired woman he’d met when looking for Willie - stalking in, a gleaming knife in her hand. She was followed by a short, plump woman with purple hair, a line of various chefs and bakers, each armed with metal frying pans, and-
No.
He tried to hide the fear in his eyes as Willie walked in, his brow furrowed and hands steady, wrapped around the knife in his hand. But when their eyes met, and Alex tried to give him the tiniest of head shakes, Willie mouthed something that Alex couldn’t make out before Caleb spoke again.
“I can see you’re all a bit tense,” he said silkily, “so here’s how this will go. Ray here is going to surrender, and I’ll let your precious council members live.”
Alex watched as the group behind Lilian - thankfully not including Willie - silently lined up behind the seven Kryptonians holding daggers to the council. They made eye contact with one another before simultaneously bringing their frying pans down on their heads as hard as they could, causing everyone to erupt in shouts and screams, some of joy, some of rage, some of fear. Caleb’s head snapped over, and then Lilian spoke.
“Or,” she said smoothly, “you could surrender, and go back to your own country.” She had the knife trained on his back, the blade gleaming in the lantern-lit room. Willie was in front of Caleb, popping out from behind the throne. Alex’s heart couldn’t decide if it wanted to pound louder or silence itself completely as he saw the terror in Willie’s eyes that he tried to mask.
“Don’t hurt these people,” Willie said, his voice steadier than Alex would’ve expected.
“A few bakers trying to save their precious leaders,” Caleb purred, but the malice in his voice was like venom. “How sweet. Unfortunately for you, I have this”- he pulled a small remote out of his pocket -”and while I would rather not use it, I will if I must.” Alex’s stomach dropped.
A bomb.
“That’s right,” Caleb said over the terrified screams, people running for the doors. “If any of you here have any sense, you’ll run. You shouldn’t have to, of course, but if your leaders continue to be stubborn, it might be for the best.”
“You’re bluffing,” someone called from the audience. “You’re in this room too.”
“Am I?” Caleb challenged, and Alex’s face warped with confusion, until he saw a flicker.
A hologram.
“Yes,” Caleb remarked. “You probably didn’t notice my brief trip to the restroom earlier, but that wasn’t actually a restroom trip. I’m far away by now.”
“But what about your representatives?” Reggie asked.
“Acceptable losses. These aren’t actually representatives, they’re criminals who have been offered the chance of a full pardon if things don't go south. They have, however, been made very clear of the other possibility.” Alex noticed one of them tremble.
“You might notice that your king is not in the room,” Caleb added, and Alex’s face reddened with fury.
“What did you do to my dad?” Julie shouted, her hands clenched in fists, shaking.
“He’s alive, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Caleb said. “But I guarantee that, should I press this button, he’ll be in the line of fire.”
Furious shouts echoed in the huge room, and Alex watched as Julie stepped up to the royals’ table.
“Leave my people alone.” The words were cold, harsh, but clear and steady. “Get out of our kingdom. You have no place here.”
“Yeah,” Reggie interjected. “We’re not going to abandon our people, no matter how much you want us to.”
“You can’t make us surrender,” Luke informed him. Alex nodded, standing as tall as he could.
“I truly hate to do this,” Caleb said, without an ounce of sorrow in his voice. “But you leave me no choice.”
“NO,” Alex yelled, his eyes flicking from Luke to Julie to Carlos to Willie to Reggie, trying to find all of them and get them out of here.
“I’m sorry, everyone,” Caleb added maliciously. Everyone was running and screaming, bustling through the doors,
“Everyone get out of here, now!” Luke’s voice echoed throughout the ballroom, and Alex barely saw him run after Julie. Reggie ran out another door, and Alex searched for Willie.
At least thirty seconds had to have passed, searching the ballroom and crowded hallways, ushering people out.
“WILLIE!” his voice was louder than he’d ever known it could be, and he shouted a couple more times, finally meeting a dark brown gaze, panicked and full of all the words they’d left unsaid. Everything moved in slow motion, his legs like lead and air as he sprinted towards him.
The shockwave knocked him backwards, leaving him deaf and blind, barely registering when his back hit the ground, not even noticing the air forced out of his lungs. Alex felt like he was floating, every nerve in his body stretched along a cloud of light.
If this is dying, he thought, it’s not so bad. People don’t need to be so scared.
His mind was trapped in a void of dark brights, blinding and comforting at the same time, like he was hovering in an endless state of between. Between fire and ice, ground and sky, life and death. He floated, wondering just how long it had been. It felt like minutes but it couldn’t have been, because that was only the shockwave.
Because then came the fire.
The heat licked at his skin, and Alex was snapped back to reality.
He wasn’t sure if he was burning or if it was just the air around him, which was now thick with smoke and dust. Bits of debris scattered all around, and he only saw Willie’s face one more time before falling into oblivion.
…
When Alex awoke, the sky was dark, twinkling with stars, but the faint light of sunrise teased the horizon. He was on his back, next to a giant slab of concrete, his face covered in dust. He did his best to sit up, a sharp pain on his arm. He winced, grabbing his bicep, grimacing when his palm came away soaked with blood. And his ankle hurt when he tried to stand. He tested it, but by some miracle, it didn’t feel broken.
He stood, shaking the dust off of him and limping around, searching for other people.
For survivors.
Alex’s breath caught when he saw a group of people farther down the hill. He ran to them, ignoring the pain in his ankle as he bounded down.
He saw Reggie first. His wrist was wrapped in a bandage, and a streak of red adorned his pale forehead, but he was alive.
“REGGIE!” he shouted, running, tears blurring his eyes. Reggie’s head snapped towards him.
“ALEX!” he cried, standing and dashing closer. They met in a hug, collapsing in each others’ arms, sobbing into their shoulders.
“When we didn’t find you with the survivors we thought-”
“Shh, no, I’m okay,” he said. “A little roughed up, but I’ll live.” He turned his head to the palace, hundreds of feet behind him. He had a clear view of the destruction.
He’d really underestimated the size of the palace. The ballroom was in the bottom right corner, and was blown to bits. More of the palace was scorched and crumbling, but it appeared the left half had been preserved, somehow.
“Where’s everyone else?” he asked, refusing to give in to the panic rising in his chest. “Are they okay?”
“Julie’s with Carlos and Ray over where I was,” Reggie said.
“Wait, Ray survived?” Relief washed over him. “But I thought-”
“I’m not sure how, but he made it,” Reggie said with an incredulous laugh, more tears running down his soot-covered face. “And Erik, Mira, Flynn and Carrie are also okay, same with Luke.” Alex sighed, smiling despite himself. They’d survived.
“ALEX!” his head snapped to Luke’s voice, and he ran to him, once again ignoring the pain in his ankle. Luke tackled him with a hug despite the sling around his arm. “We thought you were-”
“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m okay.”
…
Alex ran through the gardens, offering quick aid to anyone he could. But he was only half-paying attention, which might’ve made him the worst prince ever. But he needed to find Willie.
He searched, tears blurring his eyes as he made his way to the last place he needed to search, but also the one he was dreading.
As he ran into the park, he searched the lawn and sidewalks, nearly dying of relief when he saw Willie, sitting in the middle of the field, his knees hugged to his chest…
Shaking with sobs.
“Willie!” he called, racing over. Willie’s head snapped up, his eyes red and puffy. His face went from shock to happiness to confusion to incredulity within half a second, and he stood, shaking and walking to Alex.
A swell of confidence, probably tied with a huge rush of adrenaline, sent Alex running forward, wrapping Willie in a hug, who sobbed into his shoulder. Soon, Alex was crying too.
“I’m sorry,” Willie whispered shakily. Alex shook his head.
“No,” he said. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was doing, I should’ve grabbed you and ran…” His eyes met Willie’s, and he leaned a little closer, his heart racing until he was just a hairsbreadth away.
Then, when Willie didn’t pull away, he pressed their lips together.
Willie’s lips tasted like chocolate and salty tears, chapped and warm. He kissed back almost immediately, Willie’s hands tangling in Alex’s hair, Alex’s arms around his waist, pulling him closer. It might not have been a movie-worthy kiss, between the sobs, soot, and blood, but Alex couldn’t think, too caught up in the euphoria of Willie being alive, and of kissing him.
It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds when they came up for air, foreheads pressed together.
“When you weren’t with the survivors, I-” Willie choked off into another sob. “I thought I’d lost you,” he finally whispered. Alex shook, hugging him tighter.
“You’ll never lose me.”
-----
Julie POV
…
Julie smoothed the front of her violet ball gown, letting the layers of tulle float gently to the floor. Straightening the silky bodice, her hands shook with anxiety, but she didn’t let herself succumb to it. The gown was identical to the one she’d worn to the welcome feast a week ago, only rather than navy blue, this one was violet. Otherwise, though, it was the same; a silky, strapless dress with layers of tulle, one layer going over her chest and collarbone in a halter neckline. However, while the blue one had tiny starlike diamonds sewn into the skirt, this one had no jewels, but the tulle halter was embroidered with dahlia designs.
She walked to her vanity, twisting her hair into two braids, tying them together and letting the rest of her hair poof at the base of her neck. She drew her eyeliner into a small, sharp wing, brushed on mascara, and painted her lips with a shimmery gloss. She massaged a bit of lotion into her arms and spritzed some perfume into the air, walking through the mist so that it was subtle.
Her low heels made quiet tapping noises as she walked across her bathroom, examining her reflection to make sure she looked perfect.
Once she’d made sure her dress wasn’t crooked and that her eyeliner was even, Julie sat on the foot of her bed and grabbed her phone. The time read 19:44. 16 minutes until the ball.
A knock on her door drew her attention.
“Come in.” She gave a weak smile when her dad walked through the doorway.
“Hey, mija,” he said, “you okay?” Julie shrugged.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I’m nervous, but also just anxious to get this over with. With any luck, it’ll go well, and Caleb will revoke his declaration.”
“That’s the plan,” Ray agreed. A wistful smile spread on his face, and his eyes turned glassy.
“You look beautiful,” he told her. Julie smiled.
“Thanks.”
“Your mother had a dress just like that,” he added. “You look just like her.” Julie stood, blinking back a tear as she hugged him. He squeezed back, finally letting go with a sigh.
“Everything will be okay.”
“Here’s hoping. And if not, we’ll make it.” Ray nodded, his expression unreadable as he left, closing her door, almost seeming like he wasn’t sure if it was true.
Right at that moment, Julie decided that it would be. If things went south, no matter what, she would fight to make sure they all made it out alive. She would fight in any way she had to if it meant her family stayed safe.
She would fight, and she would win.
…
As she walked into the ballroom, she found her assigned seat, in the center of the long royal table, just beside her father. To her right was Luke, then Alex, Carrie, Flynn, Erik, Mira, and Carlos. To her left, after Ray, was Reggie, Councilwoman Noah, Councilman Richard, Councilperson Aster, Councilwoman Mei Lin, Councilwoman Anika, Councilman Ryan, and Councilman Trevor.
The council members weren’t technically royalty, but they were the next tier of leaders in Dahlia, and the royal table was very long, so they got to sit there as well.
Around the perimeter, circular tables were arranged with white tablecloths draping over them, and as the Dahlian Nobility flooded in, many of the seats filled. Soon, though, King Covington arrived.
He was dressed in a black three-piece, a black and violet cloak over his shoulders. His top hat was still perched on his expertly-styled hair, and his blue eyes pierced Julie’s before travelling to Ray. Ray stood, his face neutral. Covington took off his hat and pressed it to his chest, dipping in an elaborate bow.
“It is an honor to be here, King Molina,” he purred. “I do hope we can resolve this quickly.”
“As do I. Hopefully it will be easy. We have been allies for over a century, after all.” Covington’s smile morphed into a sneer.
“Indeed.” He flourished to his table, Kryptonian representatives right behind him, as they arranged themselves. Ray cleared his throat, and Julie took a deep breath.
“Welcome,” he said, “to the ball. This event is a celebration of allyship, a hope for peace, and a symbol of unity amongst our people. I hope all of you in attendance will find yourselves comfortable. Please, do not hesitate to speak up if you are not. Now please, enjoy the feast.”
Soft chatter echoed in the grand room, the clicking of cutlery on plates ringing in Julie’s ears. She did her best to focus on her food, but her eyes kept flicking to Covington. He was very shady. She couldn’t decide if he was always like that, or if something was off tonight, but he spoke in hushed tones to his representatives, glancing furtively around the room. Julie turned back to her food.
“How are you holding up?” Luke’s voice snapped her out of her daze.
“Alright,” she said after a moment. “You?”
“Alright.”
It was a lie, of course. Neither of them were alright, but they had to pretend to be.
Julie noticed Luke’s eyes flicker to Caleb.
“Something seems off,” he murmured. “I’m not sure if he’s always like this, but my gut tells me something’s wrong.”
“I had the same feeling,” Julie admitted, looking at her food so people wouldn’t notice her occasional glances to Covington and Luke.
“Hey, dad?” she asked after a moment, her voice hushed. Ray looked at her.
“Something’s wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, my gut is telling me that something bad is going to happen. Look at Covington,” she added when he looked skeptical. “He’s glancing around like he expects someone to sneak up on him, and he’s hunched. He looks so secretive, but he’s usually flamboyant.”
“Hmm,” Ray murmured. “You’re right, he is acting strange. But I’m sure everything’s fine, mija.” He patted her hand. “Your dad’s got this.” Julie offered half a smile in reply, but met Luke’s eyes nervously.
“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” he finally said. “He’s probably plotting what ridiculous outfit he’ll wear tomorrow.” The joke lightened the mood, and Julie giggled. Luke smiled, biting his lip to hold back a laugh.
They finished their dinner, and then, the mingling began. Dessert would be brought up soon, but this was an opportunity for everyone to stand and walk around to see other people. Julie roamed the room, shaking hands and speaking cordially with the Nobility, exchanging a couple jokes with Lady Cadence.
When butlers brought dessert from the kitchens, Julie gave a friendly curtsy to the people around her before making her way back to the table. The dessert was a mixture of mini red velvet cupcakes, piped with cream cheese frosting, and beautifully decorated cakes. Thin layers of fondant gave them warm pastel coloring, and frosting had been piped into flowers and swirls.
She helped herself to a slice of cake, but didn’t finish it. Nerves were taking up more room in her stomach than she’d thought. So, she opted to sip her water, scanning the crowd. She noticed Lady Amara holding hands with Lady Sierra and smiled. She’d known they’d liked each other, so that warmed her heart.
Soon, everyone had finished dessert, and the music volume increased, slow and rhythmic. People made their way to the dance floor with partners, waltzing around gracefully. Julie smiled as Carrie dragged Flynn over, spinning her around and catching her. Flynn protested but laughed.
Soon, Julie was twirling around the dance floor, making idle chatter as she slowly waltzed with kind Nobility, talking cordially about political affairs.
As she sat down on one of the free chairs at the edge of the ballroom, she sighed. Thankfully, everything seemed to be going well. She smoothed the tulle of her dress, fixing a curl back into a braid, when Luke’s voice caught her attention.
“My lady,” he said with a grin, dipped in a bow. “May I have this dance?” Julie stifled a laugh. He was such a dork. But she nodded, putting her hand in his and letting him pull her closer, hoping she hid her shiver when he gently placed his hand on her waist, the other holding her hand up as they danced.
“I’m surprised at how well this has gone so far,” he told her. She couldn’t help but nod, making sure nobody was paying attention.
“I half suspected Caleb would’ve tried something by now.”
“Same.”
“But I still have a nagging feeling in my gut,” Julie admitted. Luke nodded, quiet for a moment. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though. They held each other's gaze, and Julie’s hand felt right at home on his shoulder as she swayed.
“There’s nothing to do about it now, though,” Luke reasoned, and Julie smiled, grinning wider when he twirled her. Her heart fluttered, but sank when Luke frowned. Half of his smile returned.
“We should probably trade off, now,” he sighed. Julie nodded disappointedly. Nobody could suspect that they didn’t want to go along with the arranged marriage. And besides, Luke might like her, but probably not how she liked him. He just cared about people’s reputations.
She gave half a smile and twirled again, before someone took her wrist.
“Your highness, may I have this dance?” The sickening voice of Caleb Covington filled Julie’s ears, and she wanted nothing more than to rip away from his clammy clutch and walk away. But this was for diplomacy, so she suppressed her shudder and offered a smile.
“Of course.”
“You know,” Covington said silkily, “this is a beautiful palace.” Julie nodded.
“Yes, I believe your grandfather helped my great-grandfather design it once we became allies,” she pointed out. “It has architectural properties that were inspired by Kryptonian styles, but was also its own thing.”
“Yes, one might say that,” Caleb agreed. “But, isn’t it ironic that my own grandfather, who was the king of the most prolific country in the world, held no reservations against designing a palace for a new ‘country’ that never should have existed?” Julie bit back a sarcastic remark.
“With all due respect, your majesty”- she twirled, grateful for the moment without Caleb’s hand on her waist -”At that time, Dahlia had already been founded over a century earlier, and relations had stabled. Our resources were significant, and our citizens had settled in an unoccupied land. The Dahlian revolution was a revolution purely because Krypto’s king at the time was too stubborn in the years before his passing to let go.”
“You’ve studied your history, I see,” Caleb remarked.
“I have been raised for this,” Julie agreed with half a smile, but it wasn’t genuine. “Your grandfather ascended over a century ago, and his goal was always peace, which was why he worked so hard to forge an allyship between Krypto and Dahlia. Relations have been stable between us ever since. We would rather keep it that way.”
“You know,” Caleb said with a click, “the funny thing about running a country is that you must always aim for growth. In that growth lies certain… growing pains, shall we say? Krypto is destined for greatness, and Dahlia is the rebellious teenager who was once an obedient child, and will soon be the respectful adult with familial ties.”
“Or,” Julie countered smoothly, “if you’re so set on growth, you could expand on uninhabited land. More resources means more wealth, and more land means more growth for your borders and space for your people. Holding onto a grudge that was resolved before you were born will only hold you back.”
She knew the words were risky, and might be perceived as disrespectful, but Caleb’s smirk grew into a laugh.
“My dear Julie, you are too smart for your own good. And yet,” he added, “there is still so much you don’t understand. You’re so young, I wouldn’t expect you to understand it in the first place.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I am just as qualified as anyone else in this room.”
“But you don’t know what it’s like to lead a country on your own-”
“And I’ll never have to, because I have the sense to not distance myself from my people.”
“You’re marching into dangerous territory,” Covington warned, but Julie didn’t care.
“Like I said,” she said with finality, “our goal is to resolve things peacefully and go back to our allyship. Please enjoy the ball.”
…
Julie had taken her chance to escape Caleb, and she was grateful that she did, because she got room to breathe, and got to hang out with her friends.
She danced with Alex, chatting idly about the ball, and about a certain baker with whom Alex was absolutely smitten. She grinned to herself, asking questions to make sure that this baker was actually worthy of Alex. She knew he could be a bit… simpy, so she had to make sure she had the brain cell, and then approve of his future boyfriend. But, if Alex was to be believed, the baker - Willie, as she learned - was one of the sweetest people to ever walk the Earth, just shy of Reggie. So, Julie took his word for it.
She twirled, letting the skirt of her dress flare outwards.
“Okay, bro, that dress is amazing,” Alex noted. “It looks like the one you wore last week.”
“That’s because it is! Well, the same style at least. It’s a different color.”
“Well, same or different, it looks great.”
“Thanks,” she said with a grin. She noticed Alex’s eyes flicking around the room, scanning the people as if he was searching for someone.
“Looking for someone?” she asked, a shit-eating grin on her face. Alex’s face turned bright red as he stammered in denial. Julie laughed.
“You know what? We’re done dancing, you can come back after you quit being an asshole,” he decided, flicking his wrist. Julie snorted; his gay panic was hilarious.
She found herself dancing with Flynn, who gave her The Look, glancing at Luke, who was playfully dancing with Alex. They weren’t even dancing, it was more just… messing around in a rhythmic formation. But when Luke’s eyes caught Julie’s, she quickly looked away. Flynn rolled her eyes as she twirled Julie.
“Jules, I know I can’t yell at you about this since we’re at a ball, but come on. You have to know he’s absolutely smitten with you.” Julie sighed.
“Or he’s just a dork. Which is very, very possible. I mean, have you met him?”
“Then tell me why he doesn’t act like that around anybody else?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But even if he does like me, there’s nothing we can do about it. It would be a disaster.”
“Jules, you have to go for what you want!” Flynn took a breath as she twirled, giving an awkward smile to anybody looking their way. “Talk to your dad,” she added quietly.
“What? Flynn, are you fucking insane?” Julie looked around; it was her turn to give an awkward smile. “I can’t tell dad about this.”
“Can’t tell me about what?” Ray’s voice was in a normal tone and volume, but he looked concerned as he walked towards them. “Mijas, are you alright?” Julie opened her mouth, trying to speak, glancing to Flynn.
“We’re fine,” she said at last. Ray quirked an eyebrow.
“Honey, you know I would never judge you, right?” Julie sighed, letting Flynn hand her over to dance with her dad.
“I know. It’s just…” she couldn’t find the right words.
“Is this about Caleb? Did he do something to you?”
“No, no,” she assured him, “it’s not about that. It’s about something else.” Her heart sank when he looked down.
“The marriage?” he asked quietly. She sighed.
“Yeah.”
“I know.”
“No, that’s the thing, dad, you don’t know. You know that Alex and I don’t want to get married, and I know that you tried to get us out of it, but it just hurts so much more now that…”
“No, mija, I know. You aren’t as subtle as you think.” Julie’s jaw dropped, and she stuttered for words, refusing to glance over to Luke.
“I’m sorry,” she finally sighed, “I’m so, so sorry. This isn’t something you need added to your plate.”
“Julie, you have nothing to apologize for. I know you can’t control feelings. I’ve tried. Did I ever tell you how your mother and I met?” Julie shook her head.
“She was about your age,” Ray began. “I met her at a cafe, while she was out in the city taking a break from being a princess. I didn’t even know it was her. But as soon as I did know, I immediately tried to ignore my feelings for her. But every time I saw her, I remembered her smile, and how kind she was when we spoke.
“Well, I would occasionally see her in person. We got to know each other, and no matter how much I tried to repress how I felt and insist that I just wanted to be friends with her, it didn’t work. But it all worked out in the end.”
“Yeah, well, Mom wasn’t in an arranged marriage. Her falling in love with you wasn’t treason.”
“Maybe, but…” Ray trailed off. “I’m still trying to get you out of it, I promise.”
“Thanks, Papá.”
“Of course. But you have my word that, should you choose to stand up and face these feelings, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I can’t promise that if people find out there won’t be trouble, but I’ll do anything I can.”
“Only if you extend the same courtesy to Alex,” Julie told him. “As well as whoever either of us might love.” He nodded.
“Of course, mija.” He pulled her in for a hug. “It’ll all be okay.” She nodded against his shoulder.
“Thank you.”
…
Julie was exhausted. She must’ve danced with everyone in attendance, plastering on a smile and talking about whatever. But now, she could’ve collapsed and fallen asleep.
That is, until she heard the screaming.
Adrenaline coursed through her veins, her heart pounding in her ears as she ran to the end of the ballroom, stopping in her tracks when she saw Covington dramatically sitting in her father’s thronelike chair. He sat sideways, leaning on one armrest with his legs over the other, looking very pleased with himself. And next to him…
Next to him, all seven council members were trapped in their chairs, with daggers pressed to their throats. None of them made a sound, but the fear in their eyes was heartbreaking. Everyone in the ballroom shouted, screamed, and cried for justice.
“Like I said,” Covington shouted over the din, “you will either surrender peacefully to Kryptonian rule, or we will take it by force.”
…
A bomb.
Julie could barely think.
She took a deep breath, her hands shaking as she clenched them into fists and released, finally clearing her head. Normally she worked well under pressure, but this? This was something else entirely.
The chaos of people shouting and running, trying to escape the ballroom gave her a chance to run for Carlos.
“JULIE!” he shouted, tears running down his face. Julie grabbed his wrist, running out the door of the ballroom.
“I’m going to get more people out,” she said. “I want you to grab whoever you see on your way and run straight out the front gates as far as you can, okay? But-” Carlos shook his head, inhaling to interject, but Julie cut him off -”No, Carlos, listen to me. Do not try to be a hero. I want you to run as fast as you can, okay?”
Carlos finally nodded, wrapping Julie in a hug and leaving the chest of her dress soaked with tears.
“I love you,” he choked out before running.
“I love you too,” she told him, never having meant the words more than she did in that moment.
“Julie,” came Luke’s voice from behind her, his eyes filled with panic.
“What are you doing?” she asked, traitorous tears finally leaking down her face. “You should be running, you should get out of here, get Alex, get Reggie, get anyone you can and get out!”
“No,” Luke said firmly, “I’m staying with you. But please, just-”
“No! You need to get out of here! I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” Luke grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a supply closet as more people ran by. Julie gasped in the dark.
“Please,” he said as her eyes adjusted. “Please, Julie. In case I don't make it, there’s something you need to know.” He took a breath, but Julie cut him off.
“No, don’t even go there.” She shook her head, letting her curls fly in the air.
“Please,” he whispered. Julie couldn’t speak, just shaking her head. More shouts and screams echoed from the hallway. Luke’s eyes met Julie’s, and she couldn’t find the right words to describe the intensity and swirling, indescribable emotions in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said, a single tear sliding down his cheek. Then, Julie met him halfway.
When her lips met his, they tasted salty from tears, and her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. His hand cupped her jaw, and she sank into the touch.
“I had to do that,” he told her when they pulled away, another tear rolling down his face. “At least once.”
Then, he ran out of the closet, nobody noticing within the chaos. Julie chased after him, running back into the mostly-empty ballroom. The Kryptonian representatives - or criminals - had let the council members go, and were running as fast as they could. A few Nobles were also running, but one line of Caleb’s kept echoing in Julie’s mind.
“I guarantee that, should I press this button, he’ll be in the line of fire.”
Caleb was about to press the button.
He was about to kill her father.
“DAD!” she screamed.
“JULIE!” it was Luke who shouted it, and Julie’s eyes blurred, spilling tears as she sobbed into his shoulder.
“We have to get out of here,” he told her, and she nodded, running as fast as she could, her hand clasped in his. They’d made it to the front gates before the shockwave hit them, quickly followed by fire which licked at their skin, the heat making it hard to breathe; not that they were able to breathe, the shockwave having knocked the wind out of them. They flew down the steps, and Julie was barely able to roll in time to not break her neck. Luke was behind her, and she did her best to catch him as they scrambled, making it to the hill before blacking out.
…
When Julie awoke, it was to her father’s voice, blinded by light and grief and hope.
I’m dead, she thought. But the grass under her back was cold and wet and very much making a bruise form on her spine, and the whooshing air in her ears felt real as well, and the sound of people crying and talking was heartbreaking but brought her back to reality, however horrible it might’ve been.
She blearily opened her eyes, seeing her dad and Carlos, ashen, dirty faces streaked with tears. They wrapped her in a hug, and she sobbed into their shoulders.
“Dad-”
“I’m here, mija.”
“But I thought you were dead! Caleb said-”
“I was able to make it out,” he assured her. “I’m a little beaten up, but I’m alive.”
“Where’s Luke?” she asked, choked up with smoke and fear.
“Right here.” Luke’s voice was choked up, and he wrapped her in a gentle hug. She cried into his shoulder for a moment.
“He’s okay,” Carlos said. “We’re okay.” Julie cried harder, standing and collapsing into Luke’s arms, running to Reggie and Carrie and Flynn and Mira and Erik and-
“Wait,” she said, trying to convince her eyes that she’d seen wrong.
“Where’s Alex?”
“He’s okay,” Reggie said. Julie hadn’t even noticed that he’d walked away. But now, his face was covered with happy tears, and he had Alex’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, helping him walk with a sprained ankle. Julie rushed to him and hugged him as tightly as she could, finally letting her tears break free.
They were okay.
-----
Luke POV
...
When Alex’s breathing quickened, Luke had a feeling this would be one of the worst panic attacks yet. So, it was no surprise when three fake sneezes echoed in the room, Luke was prepared to walk in and sit next to his best friend.
He wrapped his arms around Alex, trying to calm his trembling.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, but Alex didn’t hear him. Luke kept holding him, trying to stay steady for him, letting Alex bury his head in his shoulder. He traced circles on Alex’s shoulder blades, thankful when he calmed a bit, but his breathing was rapid and shaky.
“Everything will be okay, Lex,” he said. “I promise.”
Luke leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Alex’s temple, tracing gentle circles along his shoulders.
“Just breathe,” he whispered. “It’ll be okay.” Alex hugged him tighter, and Luke patted his back.
“Sorry,” he choked out, and Luke immediately shook his head.
“Don’t be. This is a nerve-racking thing. I’m super nervous too.” It wasn’t a lie. Luke had always been good at holding himself together when he was scared or anxious, but he was still trembling.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Alex said dryly, wiping his tears.
“Really?” Luke challenged, hating how his voice quivered, even though it proved his point. He showed Alex his shaking hands. “You’re not alone,” he reminded him. “I promise.”
“Thanks.” Then, it was Alex’s turn to wrap him in a hug, and Luke was surprised but comforted by it. He let himself sink into the embrace, sure he was shaking, but he didn’t care. That was his best friend, and he was warm, and Luke needed a hug. He held him tighter, shaking, finally letting go, his heart protesting the lack of hugs.
“Okay, it’s almost time. Let’s get ourselves fixed up.” Alex nodded, squeezing him tighter before letting go. Luke followed him to the bathroom, fixing his heather grey vest and readjusting his sleeves, fixing a loose strand of hair.
Neither of them were ready, but they nodded to each other and walked to the ballroom.
…
Luke was rather surprised when he saw that his assigned seat was between Julie and Alex. It would’ve made more sense for Julie to be next to Alex, since they were supposed to be getting married. Not that Luke was complaining, of course.
“How are you holding up?” he asked quietly.
“Alright,” Julie replied after hesitating. Luke knew it was a lie. “You?”
“Alright.”
Luke’s eyes flickered to Caleb against his will. Something in his gut was nagging at him that something was wrong.
“Something seems off,” he murmured. “I’m not sure if he’s always like this, but my gut tells me something’s wrong.”
“I had the same feeling,” Julie admitted, confirming Luke’s anxieties. He did his best to calm the swelling bubble of worries in his stomach, taking another bite of his food. He heard Julie whisper to her dad, mentioning that she felt like something was off. Luke kept glancing at her, never lingering for more than a moment before looking away, usually to see if Caleb was still acting sketchy.
Of course, he was.
Julie caught his eye, and he couldn’t ignore how nervous she looked. He bit his lip, hating how anxious this was all making her. She didn’t deserve this distress. Luke had to fight the urge to reach and take her hand; even under the table, it would be a super risky move.
“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” he finally said. “He’s probably plotting what ridiculous outfit he’ll wear tomorrow.” Luke grinned when she laughed, for once not minding the butterflies in his stomach and how his heart started doing flips when she smiled.
When the dancing started, Julie went to the large floor, speaking cordially with Nobles, and Luke was entranced. She flitted around the room like a butterfly. Her sparkly dress caught the light as she twirled, and the violet coloring made her look like she’d been dipped in twilight, with the softness of the clouds but the ferocity of a raging hurricane, the strength of a rushing river but the gentle touch of a feathery breeze.
Luke stood at the edge of the floor, dancing with many people, including an overeager middle school girl who was both shy and enthusiastic. He gave her a smile and moved on to the next person.
At some point, he ended up dancing with Mira, whose shimmery aquamarine gown had flecks of gold sewn in, glinting in the light. But he kept trying to subtly spot Julie in the crowd. Mira laughed.
“Dude, you’re killing me,” she said with an exasperated grin. “Go find her and ask her to dance!” Luke shook his head.
“We’re in a public setting,” he reasoned. It definitely wasn’t because of the nerves swelling in his chest. The eye roll Mira gave him was legendary.
“And? It’s a ball! People dance! Alex has had to dance with a ton of people already, but nobody suspects him of treason, right? So who’s to say you can’t dance with Jules?” Luke sighed.
“I know, I know, it’s just…” he trailed off, searching for the right words as he twirled Mira. “I feel weird,” he told her. “I’m normally really confident and can just go for things, but for some reason I just… can’t. I hate this feeling,” he added. “Nervousness does not fit me.”
“It doesn’t,” Mira agreed. “But it is sweet. And I can guarantee you that she wants to dance with you too.” Luke’s eyes widened.
“How do you know? Wait,” he said, a huge grin spreading on his face as he lowered his voice, “do you think she likes me like I like her?” He shook his head, trying to get rid of those horrible, treasonous thoughts.
“I’m not going to betray Julie’s trust,” Mira said, “but I am going to call you an oblivious, pining dumbass.” When Luke didn’t respond, she added, “get it together! Go tell her how you feel!”
“I can’t do that,” he sighed. “Even if I really, really want to. We both know what would happen, Mira.”
“I know, I just…” Mira sighed. “I hate seeing her so doubtful. She’s confident in herself, and she doesn’t need a guy to tell her she’s amazing. But watching one of my best friends wonder whether someone she’s totally gone for feels the same, asking herself why would he be, when the answer is so obvious… I just hate it. You make her happy, Patterson.” Mira twirled, giving him a knowing look. “And I know she makes you happy, too.
“Things are happening, and the situation is awful,” she told him, giving a smile and encouraging nod to the other side of the ballroom. “Make sure it’s worth it.”
And then she was gone, having vanished into the crowd, leaving Luke with a goal and a pounding heart.
But he wasn’t a quitter, so he made his way across the room, his heart fluttering when he found Julie.
“My lady,” he said with a grin, dipped in a bow. “May I have this dance?”
He heard Julie laugh, briefly saw her head bounce in a nod, and then her hand was in his. Everywhere she touched felt warm and cold at the same time, and Luke smiled to himself as he pulled her closer, gently putting his hand on her waist as they danced.
Julie’s eyes shone in the light, deep brown with flecks of inky black and shimmering gold.
“I’m surprised at how well this has gone so far,” he said. Julie nodded, glancing around.
“I half suspected Caleb would’ve tried something by now.” Luke agreed.
“Same.”
“But I still have a nagging feeling in my gut,” Julie admitted. He nodded, smiling at her. The butterflies in his stomach were steady but light, and the small pressure of her hand on his shoulder kept him grounded. He had a feeling he would’ve floated away otherwise.
“There’s nothing to do about it now, though,” Luke reasoned, and Julie smiled, grinning wider when he twirled her. Luke noticed Covington staring at him, a frown on his face and one eyebrow quirked. Luke’s face fell.
“We should probably trade off now.” He hated the coldness in his hand and on his shoulder as she let go, hated Julie’s disappointed frown, and most of all, he hated Caleb’s slimy smile as he took Julie’s wrist, and how pleased with himself he looked when she danced with him out of politeness. Luke could see how uncomfortable she was. Her whole body tensed, and her smile was extremely forced. He wanted nothing more than to get him away from her, to get him to stop touching her when she clearly wasn’t okay with it. But that would’ve caused a huge spectacle, and Julie wouldn’t want him to cause drama. So he walked away.
…
When the screaming began, Luke’s stomach dropped.
Then when he turned and saw all seven council members with daggers pressed to their throats, he nearly vomited.
And when Caleb pulled out a small remote, threatening to detonate a bomb, anger contorted all of his features, his fists shaking, fingers tracing the outlines of two daggers inside his vest. His eyes flicked to Reggie, then Alex, then Julie, all of whom were terrified, confused, and angry.
“You’re bluffing,” someone called from the audience after Caleb made his threat about the bomb. “You’re in this room too.” Luke nodded.
“Am I?” Caleb challenged, and it took Luke a moment to realize that he was a hologram. A terrifyingly real one, too.
“Yes,” Caleb remarked. “You probably didn’t notice my brief trip to the restroom earlier, but that wasn’t actually a restroom trip. I’m far away by now.”
“But what about your representatives?” Reggie asked.
“Acceptable losses. These aren’t actually representatives, they’re criminals who have been offered the chance of a full pardon if things don't go south. They have, however, been made very clear of the other possibility.”
“You might notice that your king is not in the room,” Caleb added, and Luke gasped, running to Julie, whispering that it would be okay. She barely noticed him.
“What did you do to my dad?” she shouted, her hands clenched in fists, shaking, a couple tears running down her face.
“He’s alive, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Caleb said. “But I guarantee that, should I press this button, he’ll be in the line of fire.”
Furious shouts echoed in the huge room, large in part from Luke himself. Jule shrugged his hand off her shoulder, stepping up to the royals’ table.
“Leave my people alone. Get out of our kingdom,” she instructed. “You have no place here.”
“Yeah,” Reggie interjected. “We’re not going to abandon our people, no matter how much you want us to.”
“You can’t make us surrender,” Luke added loudly, squaring his shoulders.
“I truly hate to do this,” Caleb said, without an ounce of sorrow in his voice. “But you leave me no choice.”
Luke sprinted towards the doors next to Julie.
“I’m sorry, everyone,” Caleb added maliciously. Everyone was running and screaming, bustling through the doors,
“Everyone get out of here, now!” Luke’s voice was louder than he’d ever known it could be, or maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He ran out the door, ushering people away, directing them to the nearest exit and telling them to run as far as they could. But his mind was still on Julie.
He searched the crowd, craning his neck before he found her talking to Carlos and hugging her. He raced towards her.
“Julie,” he said quietly.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “You should be running, you should get out of here, get Alex, get Reggie, get anyone you can and get out!” Luke shook his head.
“No,” Luke said firmly, “I’m staying with you. But please, just-”
“No! You need to get out of here! I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” Luke grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a supply closet as more people ran by, hating the way he was shaking.
“Please,” he said, blinking as his eyes adjusted, and blinking back tears. “Please, Julie. In case I don't make it, there’s something you need to know.” He took a breath, but Julie cut him off.
“No, don’t even go there.” She shook her head, but Luke couldn’t think.
“Please,” he whispered. He looked at her, trying to take in every beautiful detail; the deep brown of her eyes, the curls of hair draped over her shoulders, the small gap in her teeth, the curve of her collarbone, the beautiful melody of her voice.
“I’m sorry,” he said, a single tear sliding down his cheek. Julie leaned forward as he did, and then his lips were on hers. The kiss was brief and tasted like chocolate, full of all the emotions he couldn’t find the words for. She kissed him back, and he couldn’t explain how much it hurt knowing that it might be the last time.
“I had to do that,” he whispered when they pulled away, another tear rolling down his face. “At least once.”
Then, he ran out of the closet, right into the mostly-empty ballroom to get everybody out and search for Ray. Caleb’s hologram smiled maliciously at him. Luke ignored it, running and helping people up as they fell, before Julie’s voice pierced the air.
“DAD!” she screamed. No! Why was she here? She was supposed to run!
“JULIE!” he shouted, running to her.
“We have to get out of here,” he said, and thankfully she didn’t protest. She took his hand and he ran with her as fast as he could without pulling her over, making it to the front gates when the shockwave hit him. Heat from the raging fire burned the air and made it impossible to breathe, and Luke did his best to land steadily as Julie caught him after rolling. He ran as fast as he could, and everything seemed to move in slow motion as he looked back at Julie, her hand slipping from his, the final shockwave blasting him backwards.
He was blacked out before he hit the ground.
��
When Luke awoke, he coughed, pain in his chest from the smoke and debris. His head was pounding, a drop of blood rolling down his cheek. As he sat up, a sharp pain in his shoulder told him he’d dislocated it. He grimaced, testing it; thankfully it wasn’t severe, and he bit down on torn fabric of his vest as he popped it back into place, using the rest as a sling he hastily tied.
He stood, running down the pile of debris as he found Reggie.
“REGGIE!” he shouted, running as fast as he could. Reggie’s face was streaked with tears, and he ran to him. Luke wrapped him in a one-armed hug, a sob escaping his lips.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Reggie nodded.
“I’m okay,” he choked out. “Sprained my wrist, but I’m okay.”
“Where’s Julie?” he asked, looking around.
“She’s okay, don’t worry,” Reggie told him, another tear streaking down the dust on his face. “But we haven’t found Alex yet.” Luke’s stomach dropped.
He was supposed to be Alex’s guard. He was supposed to protect him, and now he might not even be alive. Luke’s eyes blurred with tears and his chest heaved with sobs.
“That doesn’t mean he’s…” Reggie trailed off. “We haven’t searched all of the grounds yet, so there’s still a good chance he’s alright and we just haven’t found him.” The words helped, but Luke couldn’t stop crying. Alex was missing.
“Ray’s also alive,” Reggie added, and Luke was shocked enough to dry his tears.
“But I thought-”
“He made it, somehow.” Reggie’s laugh was incredulous. “Everyone else is okay, too.”
But not Alex.
…
Luke practically flew down the hill to Julie, who was still passed out, her gown tattered and skin covered in soot and dust. A few streaks of blood marred her arms, but she seemed okay other than that, and Luke was too relieved to explain when he noticed that her breathing was steady.
Ray wrapped him in a hug, which took Luke by surprise, but he hugged back.
“I’m so sorry, mijo,” he said. “I should’ve-”
“No,” Luke said. “No, you did everything you could’ve. And we just need to find Alex.” He willed the words to be true, but Ray shook his head.
“There were four casualties,” he whispered. “Four of my people, gone, because I couldn’t…”
“That was not your fault,” Luke told him sharply. “You hear me? Not. Your. Fault. It was Covington who did that, not you. You did everything you could.” Ray nodded.
“Okay.” He shook more, but stood, patting Luke on the shoulders, looking back down to Julie. Flynn was knelt next to her, holding her hand and whispering for her to please wake up.
“She’s okay,” Luke whispered to himself. Then, he noticed Reggie was gone, and-
When he looked up the hill, he saw Reggie with a familiar tall, blonde boy in a torn blue suit.
“ALEX!” Luke ignored the pain in his shoulder as he bolted, running and tackling his best friend in a hug. He choked back sobs, but some tears still made their way through. “We thought you were-”
“I’m okay,” Alex said. “I’m okay.” Luke nodded into his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry, man, I should’ve been with you, I should’ve-”
“No,” Alex said. “We’re okay. You have nothing to apologize for.” Luke nodded.
“Everyone else is okay, too,” he said. “Come on.”
Luke ran back down the hill, followed by Alex and Reggie. But Luke sprinted as fast as he could when he noticed that Julie was stirring. He blinked back tears, a huge grin on his face.
“Where’s Luke?” he heard her ask.
“Right here.” He leaned down and gently wrapped her in a hug, helping her up. She was shaky but didn’t fall, finally tackling him in a huge hug, crying into his shoulder. Luke cried into the top of her head, pressing a kiss to her hair, not caring who was watching. He let her to the others.
“Where’s Alex?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“He’s okay,” Reggie said from a few feet away as he helped Alex, who seemed to have sprained his ankle.
“We’re all okay,” Luke told her, wrapping them all in a giant hug.
We’re okay.
-----
Reggie POV
…
Reggie’s hands shook as he fastened the buttons on his silky red vest, adjusting and readjusting the dark sleeves of his shirt. He took a deep breath, stretching and grabbing his bass to calm him down. He ran through the notes for Icarus, sliding down the A string and adding in some extra notes for funsies. He grinned to himself as he spun, tapping his foot with the music.
Humming to himself, Reggie glanced out the window. The sun hadn’t set, but it was going to soon. It was retreating west, preparing to dive behind the mountains. And the time on his phone told him that he needed to be in the ballroom in ten minutes. He sighed and decided to go now. It was on the other side of the palace, and he might as well go early.
…
When Reggie had settled into his seat next to Ray, Councilwoman Noah soon sat next to him.
“Hi, Reggie,” she said with a smile. “How are you?”
“Pretty nervous,” he admitted, “but excited. I love balls. They’re so fun, even if we have to dress all fancy.” Councilwoman Noah laughed.
“Well, you look wonderful,” she told him. Reggie beamed.
“Thanks! You do too!”
“Thanks, hon.” She shook her head wistfully. “You’re so young. You shouldn’t have to deal with such a stressful situation,” Noah said. “None of you should.” Reggie knew she was thinking about Flynn.
“Flynn’s strong,” he reminded her. “And she’s Julie’s best friend. Plus, she knows that she doesn’t have to deal with all of the stress. She does it because she can handle it, and because she wants to.” Noah nodded.
“Plus, she probably likes being able to say she’s best friends with the princess,” he added as an afterthought. Councilwoman Noah laughed, and Reggie felt very accomplished.
“Thanks. I always have to remind myself that she’s grown up,” she admitted. “It feels like only yesterday her hair was just long enough to braid.”
“I know,” Reggie said. “Even though Julie’s only a year younger than me, every time I see her in the meeting room, I worry that she’s going to get too stressed. I don’t know how she handles it.”
“She’ll make a great queen one day,” Noah said softly. Reggie nodded.
“Yeah. She will.”
…
The food was delicious. Reggie couldn’t help but smile as he finished, leaving room for dessert. He might’ve been a prince, but he had his priorities in order. And dessert was very high up there.
As people began mingling before dessert, Reggie wandered around as well, chatting with random Nobles. Lady Cadence asked how his music was going. Sir Blake quipped about the ironic circumstances of such a wonderful event. Mx. Genevieve brought up some interesting points about constitutional technicalities that Reggie would be sure to bring up when they met with Covington; something about allyship and unnecessary tension. Xe’d suggested that Reggie write it down; xe was one of Ray’s close friends, so xe knew about Reggie’s ADHD. It was probably a good idea, too, so Reggie took xer advice and jotted it down in his notes app.
Then, dessert was served, and Reggie was in heaven with the mini cupcakes. They were red velvet with cream cheese frosting, and he probably ate more than he should’ve, but if he did, that was nobody’s business but his.
That’s code for, yes, he did eat too many cupcakes.
Soon, the dancing began. Reggie loved dancing. Didn’t matter what kind, either; he would waltz in the ballroom, jump around whilst playing the bass, twirl around the studio as Julie played the piano, or dance by himself in the middle of the night with his earbuds in.
Reggie made his way to the open floor, cordially waltzing with random Nobles who wanted to know more about the current political situation, dancing with Alex to hype him up and reassure him everything would be okay, twirling Julie to give her a break from stuffy Nobles who kept pestering her, and letting Carlos stand on his toes as they danced, chatting animatedly about Minecraft and Star Wars.
Carlos eventually left to go dance with Nick’s younger sister, Annie Danforth-Evans. They were the same age, and Reggie definitely didn’t miss Annie’s blush when Carlos twirled her. He grinned to himself and kept dancing around the ballroom.
…
When the shouting started, Reggie’s mind flashed back to the day he ran away.
It was a cold, rainy day in October. Reggie’s parents had been fighting more and more for months, and it had gotten so bad that he couldn’t fall asleep at night without wondering when he would be woken up at some early hour by shouts and screams. A stray piece of stuffing floated in the corner of his eye. It was from a small stuffed penguin he’d had, one that he hadn’t seen in weeks after one of his parents’ fights.
It was early evening, though the dark, cloudy sky and pouring rain could’ve fooled someone into thinking it was night. His parents were screaming at each other again, and Reggie was wrapped in a blanket and huddled in the corner of his bedroom, surrounded by pillows from his unmade bed, trying to focus on the sound of the rain instead of the cruel words from the living room.
He blinked back tears and sucked on the inside of his lip. There was a swollen patch of skin next to his teeth. He never bit it, just sucked on it to give him something to do instead of trying to speak. His ear was pressed to the window, sending a numbing chill through his head and making his ear hurt, but it made it easier to let the sounds of the torrential storm drown out his parents’ argument.
When the sound of a shattering glass caught Reggie’s attention, he jumped and whimpered, his tiny hands clutching into fists. He couldn’t take this.
Gathering up a drawstring bag, he stuffed in the tattered blanket, a small first-aid kit, his favorite book, and an extra hoodie. It was a little small, but it was warm. He put on his bigger hoodie, a thick grey one with a big pocket over the stomach, put up the hood, and shoved earplugs into his ears. He struggled to tie his beat-up converse and peeked out the door, running out the front door when they started shouting especially loud. He doubted they heard the quick, quiet opening and closing from the entryway, but if they did, they didn’t bother investigating.
Reggie ran. He wasn’t quite sure where he was going, but he knew the city well enough to find a familiar bench that was shaded by the roof of a cafe. He sat, grateful for the dry area, ignoring the cold wind on his nose. Huddled with his knees to his chest, earplugs making him deaf to the world, he didn’t notice the old woman handing him a small bag with a cinnamon roll inside of it until she tapped his shoulder. He jumped, flinching but quickly recovering. He mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ to her, digging into the sweet pastry. Looking back on it, it probably wasn’t a good idea to accept food from a stranger, but the pangs of hunger in his stomach said otherwise.
He’d dozed off, using the drawstring bag as a pillow as he laid across the bench, when a gentle hand on his shoulder startled him awake.
‘Are you okay?’ the man asked. ‘Where are your parents?’ Reggie looked down.
‘I ran away,” he whispered.
‘Why?’��
‘They kept yelling,’ he sniffed, ‘and I hated it. They never stop.’ Worry and confusion and a little bit of anger showed on the man’s face, and Reggie retracted a couple inches, before the man knelt down.
‘Is it okay if I give you a hug?’ he asked. Reggie nodded, hesitating for a moment. But when the man’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, his own skinny arms bolted up and wrapped around his neck, and before he knew it, he was crying into his shoulder, letting the man gently pat his back.
‘Do you know who I am, mijo?’ he asked. Reggie shook his head. He looked familiar, but his head was too muddled to place him.
‘I’m King Ray,’ he said. Reggie scrambled into a bow, but Ray’s hands immediately steadied him. ‘Everything’s okay,’ he assured him. ‘If you don’t want to go back to your parents, I could bring you to the palace,’ he offered. Reggie’s eyes lit up.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah! You could meet Queen Rose and my daughter, Julie. She’s about your age. You’d love her.’ He stood, offering his hand. Reggie hesitated but took it, a slow smile on his face.
Ever since that day, he hadn’t heard his parents shouts, because he hadn’t actually seen them. But Ray was the best father he could’ve ever asked for.
These furious shouts from the ballroom brought back that one memory, and even though it happened in a split second, he felt every effect in its whole, and it struck him like a well-aimed blow. But he was distracted by the sight before him.
All seven council members with daggers to their throats.
Reggie wasn’t sure what he was feeling at that moment. It was a mix of confusion, anger, fear, and resolve, though that might’ve just been the adrenaline.
“Like I said,” Covington shouted over the rising screams of everyone in the room, “you will either surrender peacefully to Kryptonian rule, or we will take it by force.”
More shouts echoed throughout the huge ballroom, arguments and cries of fear, anger, and betrayal. Some bakers and chefs snuck in from the kitchens and saved the council members, which was a huge relief. But when Covington pulled the small remote out of his pocket, and revealed that he was a hologram, everything silenced in Reggie’s ears.
Reggie had heard of seeing red, but this wasn’t the passionate scarlet of anger. This was pure, black, hate. Covington was threatening his people, including the people he cared most about in the entire world. Julie and Carlos, Luke and Alex, Erik, Mira, Carrie and Flynn, and the entire council. His hands clenched into fists.
“But what about your representatives?” Reggie finally asked. Surely Covington wouldn’t be willing to kill his own people of such high ranking.
“Acceptable losses. These aren’t actually representatives, they’re criminals who have been offered the chance of a full pardon if things don't go south. They have, however, been made very clear of the other possibility.” Reggie’s stomach dropped. Nobody deserved a death penalty, and given his impressions of Covington, he doubted their crimes were even that severe.
“You might notice that your king is not in the room,” Caleb added, Reggie’s heart plummeted. Tears welled in his eyes.
Ray.
“What did you do to my dad?” Julie yelled, being held back by Luke.
“He’s alive, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Caleb said. “But I guarantee that, should I press this button, he’ll be in the line of fire.”
Furious shouts echoed in the huge room, and Reggie was one of the loudest among them despite his aversion to raising his voice. Covington didn’t get to waltz into Dahlia, declare war, and threaten all of these people and just get away with it. He didn’t get to threaten Reggie’s own family without facing consequences.
“Leave my people alone. Get out of our kingdom,” Julie instructed angrily, her voice clear and sharp as a dagger. “You have no place here.”
“Yeah,” Reggie interjected. “We’re not going to abandon our people, no matter how much you want us to.” It wasn’t a lie, either; Reggie was a sincere person, but he’d never meant anything as much as he meant those words. He would not give up on his people. Not ever.
And he wouldn’t give up on his family, either.
“I truly hate to do this,” Covington said, and Reggie was pretty sure his stomach was at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. But he sprinted to the doors, hauling them open and helping people out as they ran.
“Everyone out!” he called desperately, tears rimming his vision. “Get as far away as you can.”
“Your highness, where should we go?” Lady Sierra asked, her voice terrified.
“Run out the front gates,” he instructed, “then through the city. It’s late, but it isn’t raining. Just be careful.” He patted her shoulder and rushed past her, picking up a small child, barely older than six, who was struggling to hold on to his mother’s hand in the chaos.
“I’ve got him,” he called to her, calming her frantic shouts for her son. Reggie cradled him as gently as he could, bearing a few bruises as he guarded the child from the stampede of terrified Nobles. He ran as quickly as he could and handed him over to his mother, sprinting along the side of the hallway and opening more doors, yelling into the kitchens to any chefs still in there to get out. He did the same as he passed the guards’ quarters, gesturing wildly and helping people out as they jumped from their beds.
Reggie found Carlos as he ran to the front gate, wrapping him in a huge hug and picking him up over his shoulders, his legs carrying him as fast as he could possibly run. Bounding out the front gate, Carlos over his shoulder, he made it down the hill and put him down.
“Lead the others as far away as you can, okay?” Carlos nodded, wrapping him in a quick hug.
“I love you,” he said. Reggie nodded.
“Love you too. Now go!” When Carlos took off, Reggie bounded backwards towards the hill.
“Run through the city,” he instructed as loudly as he could. “Just go straight but keep the palace in view, then wait for further instructions.” People nodded as they ran, and Reggie directed them in the way Carlos had gone.
“It’ll be okay,” he assured a sobbing woman as she jogged past him. But the tremble in his voice probably wasn’t very convincing.
Neither was the shockwave that knocked them backwards.
Reggie’s ears were both ringing and silent. He couldn’t tell when or even if he hit the ground, though he had to have, if the sudden blast of cold on his back was any indication, same with the sharp pain on his wrist. It took a moment, but he was finally able to open his eyes, quickly shutting them as a tiny piece of concrete flew over him and sliced open his forehead. He groaned, reaching up to test the wound. It didn’t feel that deep, thankfully, but his dusty fingers still came away streaked with blood. And when he looked back up the hill…
He’d been lucky enough to avoid the fire. His clothes were torn but not singed like so many others. Reggie stood shakily, jumping over bits of debris as he raced back up the hill.
“JULIE?” he shouted, looking around. “ALEX? LUKE? ERIK?” His shouting didn’t seem to be of any use until he heard a familiar voice to his right.
“REGGIE?” it called. His head whipped around, worsening his headache, but he didn’t care, because Erik’s tarnished but handsome face was visible across the hill.
“ERIK!” Reggie sprinted to him, tackling him in a hug, trying to choke back his tears. “I’m so sorry, I-”
“No,” Erik whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Everything’s okay, I promise.” Reggie nodded into his shoulder.
“Guys?” someone called. When Reggie’s eyes snapped open to a familiar redheaded girl in a tattered aquamarine dress, a grin broke out on his face.
“Mira!” They both ran to her, picking her up in a hug and spinning. Reggie pressed a kiss to her hair.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Erik told her, and Reggie nodded his agreement.
“Me too,” she whispered, smudging the soot on her face as she wiped away tears. “We should look for others.” Reggie nodded, blinking back more tears as he let go, scanning around him. Dozens of battered but breathing Nobles were littered around the field, sitting, standing, and walking, helping each other.
“Are you okay?” Reggie asked Mx. Genevieve, helping xem up.
“I think so,” xe coughed. “My head hurts, but I guess that’s to be expected after a bomb.”
“Probably.” Reggie made sure they were steady. “Make sure you’re alright, then try to help anyone else you find, okay? I’m doing the same.” Xe nodded, patting his shoulder.
As he searched more rubble, he found Flynn and Carrie, clinging to each other and shaking behind a huge piece of debris. They were rattled but uninjured, thankfully. And soon, he found Julie, passed out near the stairs, the violet tulle and silk of her dress torn and dirty. He scooped her up as gently as he could, brushing a curl off her face. She coughed, and Reggie half-hoped she would wake up, but she stayed asleep.
“REGGIE!” His head whipped towards the familiar sound of Carlos’s voice, as well as the voices of the other Nobles who’d escaped in time, rushing back to the palace. He gently set down Julie, leaving her with Mira, and took off towards Carlos, who jumped into his arms.
“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. Reggie nodded.
“I’m okay,” he confirmed. “And hey, if Han Solo can survive it, so can we.” Carlos laughed, but there were still tears streaming down his face. And they just quickened, until they heard an impossibly amazing voice behind them.
“Mijos?” Ray asked, coughing up dust.
“DAD!” they shouted, running to him, hugging him gently but tightly. Reggie sobbed into his chest.
“We thought you were-”
“I’m okay,” he assured them. “Just a bit rattled. Where’s Julie?”
“She’s over there,” he pointed. “By the stairs.”
“I’ve been around the back of the damage site,” Ray explained, “which is why I hadn’t seen you yet. Almost everyone is okay, which is a relief, but…” he waited until Carlos had walked out of earshot before adding, “there were four confirmed casualties.” Reggie’s heart shattered.
“No,” he whispered. “No, that can’t be right, everyone-”
“It’s nobody we knew,” Ray added, but his eyes glistened with melancholy. Reggie nodded, hugging him again.
“Can you take me to see Julie?” he asked. Reggie nodded, taking his hand and leading him to the small, clear patch he’d set her down in. Mira and Flynn were both by her side.
“Has she woken up?” Ray asked. Reggie noticed the looks of shock on the girls’ faces, but they didn’t say anything, just shaking their heads.
…
Finding Alex and Luke had been a huge relief, and when Julie woke up, something in Reggie’s heart clicked into place.
There were shattered pieces of hearts throughout their family, found or blood, but those pieces combined into a beautiful mosaic of people who were scarred but lovely, bruised but kind, and loved each other with a passion and gentle nature that would bring them closer.
-----
Willie POV
...
“Okay,” Lilian called through the large room full of bakers and chefs, “get to your usual posts and finish up any extra dishes for tonight. Then, Alyssa, Conley, Ever, Jenna, Mark, Tori, Aaliyah, and CoCo, you’re in charge of distribution and waiting during the ball. Everyone else, be on standby, but if things go smoothly, you should be able to have an early night.” Willie smiled, but his heart fell.
He’d really hoped he’d be chosen to go to the ball and wait tables. He knew it was stupid, but he really wanted to see Alex. Even if they wouldn’t get to interact, it still would’ve been nice. And he’d spent the whole time he was baking thinking through tons of what-ifs. What if Alex noticed him there? What if they got to chat? If he was lucky, what if they got to dance? What if…
Willie shut down the thoughts. It wasn’t happening anyway.
He redid his hair in the knot at the nape of his neck, sighing and heading back to the kitchens to make sure the cupcakes were perfect. They were, of course; he’d practiced piping cupcakes since he was little. Eva always loved cupcakes. Her favorite of his were the lemon ones, with the yellow and pink sprinkles. He’d made them on her eighth birthday, and her face lit up when he brought them out, complete with striped candles. Willie grinned at the memory of her trying to blow them out with her missing two front teeth, singing, ‘happy birthday to me, I’m a hundred and three, I’m getting tho old and thoon I’ll be wrinkly!’ It wasn’t the same song that a lot of kids sang, but it was Eva’s. She refused to sing it any other way. Of course, Willie still teased her about her then-inability to pronounce her S’s, and any time it was her birthday, he’d say ‘it’th your birthday, Eva! You’re getting tho old, thoon you’ll be wrinkly!’ It drove her absolutely insane.
Willie missed those days.
…
The ball seemed to be going smoothly, so Willie took it upon himself to make a batch of key lime tarts. He hummed to himself, letting his mind wander to all sorts of things (Alex, mostly), shaping the dough into the tins.
That was, until he heard the screaming.
His stomach dropped and he dashed to the other side of the kitchen, where Alyssa was standing in a defensive position as if someone was about to attack her. Willie joined her, before Lilian snuck back in through the back door. She didn’t say a word, but pointed Alyssa to the frying pan shelf and Willie…
To the knife rack.
Willie’s hands shook and a cold sweat dripped down his back, but he obeyed Lilian’s grim nod and took one, gripping it in his palm and watching light glint on the blade. He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat.
Lilian led everyone in the kitchens to the door, surreptitiously walking out in a single-file line, all the way down the hall to the ballroom. Willie never knew Lilian could be so silent; her steps were completely inaudible.
As Lilian pushed open the door, eyes flicked their way, and Willie silenced his breathing as he searched for a familiar blue-green-grey pair. And when he finally found them, they were fraught with terror, hope, confusion, and something else that Willie couldn’t quite place. Something lighter but heavier at the same time.
Alex gave him the tiniest of head-shakes, but he was too far in to stop.
I’m sorry, Willie mouthed. I care about you, Alex.
He wasn’t sure if he’d been able to understand what he so desperately wanted to tell him, but Willie did see a resigned nod and a plea for him to be careful coming from Alex’s direction.
Things seemed to move in slow motion. By some miracle, Covington, who was draped over King Ray’s throne, didn’t notice the nervous glances their way. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though; he was a very self-absorbed person.
Then, all hell broke loose when Alyssa and six other cooks brought down their pans on the representatives’ heads at once, knocking them out cold and freeing the council members. Willie’s heart raced as he hid behind the throne as Lilian trained her knife on Covington’s back. He was astonished at how steady her voice was, how tall she stood (not just because she was over six feet; she was scarily confident).
“Or,” she said smoothly, “you could surrender, and go back to your own country.” The knife in her hand didn’t waver, but Covington recoiled. He hadn’t heard her coming. Willie took his chance and got on the other side, his knife pointed at Covington as well. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to use it.
“Don’t hurt these people,” he instructed, proud of how clear and steady his own voice was.
“A few bakers trying to save their precious leaders,” Caleb purred, but the malice in his voice was like venom. “How sweet. Unfortunately for you, I have this”- he pulled a small remote out of his pocket -”and while I would rather not use it, I will if I must.” Willie’s heart leaped to his throat, and he was achingly aware of the sweat on his back, the curl of hair that had loosened from his bun, the pebble in his shoe.
None of that compared to what he would soon feel if Covington pressed that button, though. Willie had never seen one before, but he knew exactly what it was.
A bomb.
The next minute was chaos. His knife clattered to the floor, heart pounding in his ears, and he jumped backwards, hating his fearful reaction. Lilian, to her credit, held her ground nicely, but the tension in her shoulders had returned in full effect, and her eyebrows creased in the middle.
“That’s right,” Caleb said over the terrified screams, people running for the doors. “If any of you here have any sense, you’ll run. You shouldn’t have to, of course, but if your leaders continue to be stubborn, it might be for the best.” Willie shook his head. Covington wouldn’t just… do that.
“You’re bluffing,” someone called from the audience. “You’re in this room too.”
“Am I?” Caleb challenged, and Willie could’ve sworn he’d seen wrong, but he didn’t. A flicker of transparency, proving that Covington was actually somewhere else.
A hologram.
“Yes,” Caleb remarked. “You probably didn’t notice my brief trip to the restroom earlier, but that wasn’t actually a restroom trip. I’m far away by now.”
“But what about your representatives?” a man asked. Willie recognized him as Princess Julie’s older brother, though he couldn’t remember his name.
“Acceptable losses. These aren’t actually representatives, they’re criminals who have been offered the chance of a full pardon if things don't go south. They have, however, been made very clear of the other possibility.” Willie’s hands curled into fists. Was he really willing to just… sacrifice those people? Criminals or not, Willie couldn’t stomach the idea of sacrificing seven people.
“You might notice that your king is not in the room,” Caleb added, and Willie’s stomach dropped.
“What did you do to my dad?” Julie shouted, her hands clenched in fists, shaking. Willie scanned the crowd, but didn’t find the king.
“He’s alive, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Caleb said. “But I guarantee that, should I press this button, he’ll be in the line of fire.”
Furious shouts echoed in the huge room, and Willie watched as Princess Julie walked towards the royals’ table, getting in Covington’s face. Willie ducked his head in a bow.
“Leave my people alone.” Her voice was cold, harsh, but clear and steady. “Get out of our kingdom. You have no place here.”
“Yeah,” her brother interjected. “We’re not going to abandon our people, no matter how much you want us to.” Willie nodded
“You can’t make us surrender,” another man informed Covington. Alex nodded, standing as tall as he could, and Willie tried to do the same, swallowing the bile rising in his throat.
“I truly hate to do this,” Caleb said, without an ounce of sorrow in his voice. “But you leave me no choice.”
“NO,” Alex yelled, and Willie’s stomach dropped. His eyes darted to Alex, wide with fear. If Alex…
Willie shoved away the thought.
“I’m sorry, everyone,” Caleb added maliciously. Everyone was running and screaming, bustling through the doors, and Willie did his best to get people out.
“LILIAN!” he screamed, rushing to her. “Grab Alyssa and the others, then get out as fast as you can!” She shook her head.
“No, you need to leave too,” she told him. Willie shook his head.
“I’m going to try to get people out of here,” he decided. “I can run fast, don’t worry.”
“What are the odds of getting you to listen to me?”
“Slim to none.” Lilian sighed.
“Be fast.” He nodded, patting her shoulder and letting her dash away.
Willie sprinted to the hallway outside the ballroom, shouting for people to get out of there, searching for Alex. Hopefully, he’d run, and would be far away by the time Covington made good on his promise.
But, of course, a familiar voice echoed through his ears.
“WILLIE!” Alex sprinted to him, and Willie’s eyes widened.
“GO! GET OUT OF HERE!” he said, trying to urge Alex out. “You need to get out before this place blows!” Tears streamed down his face but he ignored them, running to Alex.
When the shockwave hit him, he was a few meters away from the man he was trying to reach. Willie was pretty sure he’d phased into a different dimension when it passed through his head, leaving it fuzzy and burning but also clear, cold, and sharp.
He felt like he was floating. Maybe he was; there was no way to know. He felt disconnected from his body. The matter making him up wasn’t really his, it was just his turn to use it before he would inevitably die and be reabsorbed into the world, waiting for some other creature to be reborn from the ashes of his demise.
When his back hit the ground, Willie felt it, but in the way you feel a headache when you’re half asleep. He registered it, knew he was in pain, but didn’t feel it as much as he should’ve. He barely registered the bruises forming on his shoulders, the heat from the fire on his skin, the flecks of concrete bouncing across his face. He was feeling everything and nothing at all, like a frozen fire, a breeze barely detectable as it rushed against a hurricane.
Willie caught the faint glinting of a few stars in the sky before blacking out.
…
When he awoke, it was to shouts. They weren’t urgent, but searching, calling, asking, hoping. Blearily, he blinked his eyes open. It was still night, so he couldn’t have been out for long. What had even happened? Why was he collapsed in the middle of a field full of bits of concrete, wood, fabric, and debris?
Then, everything came rushing back in an instant.
Screams.
Knives.
The shockwave.
Fire.
Alex.
Willie bolted upright, ignoring the pounding headache between his temples. Standing shakily, he ran to the first person he could find, which happened to be Alyssa.
“Willie? Is that you?” she called, her purple hair caked with dirt. He nodded, tears blurring his vision as he wrapped her in a hug.
“Are you okay?” he asked. When she nodded against his shoulder, he sighed in relief.
“Thank God. Have you seen anyone else? Where’s Lilian?”
“She’s helping pass out medical supplies to anyone who was injured,” Alyssa explained. “I’m scanning the grounds for others.” He nodded.
“Has anyone…” he trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. Alyssa looked away, nodding.
“Four people. But everyone else was lucky, as far as we know?”
“Has anybody found King Ray yet?”
“No, but we’re looking. It’ll be okay, I promise.”
“I know, I just… This is horrible.”
“It really is,” Alyssa agreed. “I’m so sorry you had to go through it.”
“You too.”
She reached up and patted his shoulder, and Willie dashed around the grounds, searching for people, taking extra time to look for a certain blonde prince.
He helped a mother and her daughter up out of a ditch where they’d fallen after avoiding a huge concrete slab, assuring them that everything would be okay. After he’d sent them on their way down the hill, he continued his search. But no matter where he looked, he never found Alex.
Tears blurred in his eyes, but Willie blinked them back. Now wasn’t the time to cry. It wasn’t the time to grieve someone who could be alive.
He climbed over piles of broken concrete and stone, stamping out small fires along the way, leaving nothing but crumbling, charred ash.
But no matter where he searched, he couldn’t find Alex.
He doubled back multiple times, scanning the grounds and looking in every nook and cranny he could find, even going as far as to search the other half of the grounds where the bomb hadn’t affected. But there was no familiar sweep of blonde hair, no sarcastic remark, no eyes that shifted from blue to green to grey, no golden embroidery on a blue suit.
Then, he found himself running through the gardens again, searching, and ending up all the way at the back end in the park where he’d tried to teach Alex to skate.
Willie brushed the petals of one of the roses between his fingers, the sweet aroma floating to his head and making him dizzy. The grass was cold and wet with dew, but he didn’t care, embracing the chill rather than the fire he’d been so close to. He sank to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest.
Alex was gone.
And there was nothing Willie could do.
He was heartbroken. He didn’t know Alex as well as he wanted to. He wanted to get to know every aspect of him, every quirk and flaw and edge, no matter what, but now he was gone, a memory floating away on a wind, gentle but cruel and unrelenting. Willie ducked his head into his knees, letting his emotions flow as he sobbed.
He was always a quiet crier, and it made him feel insignificant and forgettable. For once, though, he didn’t care. Let the universe forget him. Let him flow through the galaxy as nothing more than a speck, a dot on a timeline, a splash of color in an ever-growing sea of humanity.
He cursed himself for falling in love so quickly, for not trying harder to get Alex to leave before the blast. He cursed himself for ever having met him at all, maybe then they’d both be alive, and it would be better in the long run. But nothing could ever be perfect. Willie knew that. So why, why did it hurt so badly when the one thing he knew would never work out ended so abruptly?
He tugged on the key on his necklace, the familiar grooves indenting his skin. He was shaking, the cold darkness like a blanket, fading as the sky gradually lightened, barely noticeable even as the sun began to paint the horizon with streaks of gold.
Then, the impossible happened. At least, it should’ve been impossible.
He heard Alex calling his name.
He knew it couldn’t be real, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as his head snapped up, half-sure he was hallucinating. But Alex was running closer, and soon Willie was standing up, walking slowly, tentatively towards him, like if he moved too fast it might scare away the slim possibility that he was real, and not a cruel trick of the light.
It might’ve worked, too, because when he leaped into Alex’s hug, he didn’t phase through him, didn’t collapse back to the ground. Alex caught him, and Willie couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying. Probably both, he decided as he wrapped his arms tighter around Alex’s back.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered shakily, feeling Alex’s head shake over his.
“No,” he said. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was doing, I should’ve grabbed you and ran…” Then it was Willie’s turn to shake his head. His breath hitched as he realized just how close they were. He could’ve counted the faint freckles dotting the prince’s nose, traced constellations into his skin, searched his eyes for answers he didn’t know existed.
And then, he kissed him.
Willie had always thought that, when people described sparks flying during a kiss, they were exaggerating, but in that moment he realized that it was incredibly, beautifully real. Sparks flew from his heart, leaving flecks of light and euphoria on his skin. Alex’s lips were soft and warm over his, slick with tears. It was broken and imperfect, but Willie wouldn’t change a second of it.
When they came up for air, Willie was smiling, but more tears were rolling down his face.
“When you weren’t with the survivors, I-” he choked off into another sob. “I thought I’d lost you,” he finally whispered. Alex shook his head, and Willie delved deeper into the embrace, memorizing every detail that he could, the way Alex’s hands felt on his back, the fabric of his suit, how his shoulder was perfectly level with Willie’s mouth.
“You’ll never lose me,” Alex whispered to him.
A few moments later, Willie breathed back, “I hope not.”
#bwya#bwya tag#be who you are (no compromise)#blue writes#jatp fanfic#usernell#tuserjules#tracklu#willex#juke#jatp#julie and the phantoms#julie molina#alex mercer#willie#willie nolastname#luke patterson#reggie peters#reggie molina#carlos molina#flynn#flynn nolastname#carrie wilson#ray molina#caleb covington
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Hey y’all, here’s chapter 3 of my “Playlist” series (formerly untitled T’Challa fic). Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything! Make sure you read chapter two HERE first and check out my Masterlist. Word Count: 5916
CW: smut
“Let's go somewhere I don't have to work so hard to keep us from drowning, eh?”
“Where do you have in mind?” Ashanti asked him while peppering his jawline with kisses.
Ashanti’s mouth hung open as the lights came on around her. She couldn’t believe she was actually standing in the King of Wakanda’s royal quarters, and on their first date at that. His hands grabbed her waist and brought her from her stupor. He pulled her back into him and nuzzled into the crook of her neck before lightly kissing up to her ear.
“T’Challa, stop, it tickles,” she barely got out between giggles. His hands snaked around and gripped her fleshy stomach, tickling her more. “You put too much wine in me to be tickling me like this.”
T’Challa chuckled and let her out his grasp before pointing to a door on the far wall.
“Bathroom’s through there,” he kissed her cheek, then shook his head as he watched her ass shake while she walked away.
“Damn.”
Ashanti knew he was watching and sneakily smiled to herself before her expression dropped at the sight before her. She thought the king’s bedroom was nice, but it was nothing compared to the dream jungle spa bathroom she walked into. Tropical plants were scattered around the floor-to-ceiling bamboo room, all under a pyramid glass ceiling. The sunken jacuzzi in the middle of the room was obviously the main attraction, but her eyes were drawn to the rain shower and she forgot why she was even there.
She caught sight of a vanity and went over to set her purse down, checking out her reflection in the mirror.
“Thank Bast I kept the makeup simple.”
Meanwhile, T’Challa poured himself a drink to calm his nerves. He was fine until she went to the bathroom, but her absence smacked him back to his senses. He brought this woman he barely knows into the palace. Into his quarters. It wasn't an issue of security, he had already thoroughly vetted her, but his willingness to have her in his space shocked him. He never brought women back to the palace, not since Ramonda caught him sneaking two very tired-looking young ladies out one morning when he was home from college. Normally he would go to their place instead, enjoying the freedom to cut their time together short and leave whenever he wanted. But no, this time he brought his date home, and it baffled him.
The alcohol was doing absolutely nothing for him so he decided to roll up instead. He broke down the Snow Goddess OG and filled up his hemp wraps before licking it and rolling it tight. Right as he lit it, his ears perked up at the sound of the bathroom door opening, which he could barely hear over the music he had started up.
Don't talk
Just listen
First of all
I have to be honest with you baby
I lied
When I told you I never wanted to see you again
Can you please stay
Just for tonight
And maybe we can do something
Like make love
Watch the sunrise
Or listen to jojo, k-ci, sing us a verse
Slide closer baby
Ha, that devante baby
Oh you feel so sexy, so good
“Come join me on the patio” he shouted to her from outside.
When Ashanti stepped out the patio doors she was shocked once more.
“This view is...,” she gasped, trying but failing to find the words. She could see all of Birnin Zana and even some of the Mining and River provinces, and of course the Jabari mountains in the distance. A tear came to her eye as she looked out over her beautiful home. Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention and she felt T’Challa come up behind her. He leaned on the railing next to her, holding his expertly-rolled blunt.
“You should see it at sunrise and sunset, the most beautiful view in the world.”
“Is that an invitation, your highness?”
He playfully rolled his eyes at her platitude and lifted the blunt, offering it to her. She placed it between her lips and he lit the tip for her. She took a couple hits before passing it back to him.
“So you’re a chef and a stoner. What else don’t I know about you?”
T’Challa laughed and gave it some thought.
“Lets see...I’m an excellent dancer, my love language is touch, I strongly dislike musicals, I’m sure you can guess my favorite color-”
“It's yellow, right?” She said sarcastically, making him laugh more and cough a little from the smoke.
“You are so observant. You know, I like that about you.”
The two fell out laughing, and Ashanti was the first to regain composure.
“Wait what do you mean you hate musicals?”
“Just the serious ones. Drama and random singing don’t go together well in my book.”
He passed the blunt back to her and she took a long drag before letting the smoke migrate up to her nose. When she exhaled the smoke she caught him staring at her, and averted her eyes.
“There’s no reason to be shy, I only bite when you want me to.”
She felt a throbbing in her panties again, just like earlier at the lake. She knew why she came here, but now that she was in his room at the palace it seemed all that confidence from earlier at the lake had left her.
“Lets just enjoy each other’s company, no pressure. Would you like something to drink?”
“What do you have?”
“...everything.”
“Oh right, it’s the palace, duh,” she chuckled nervously. “Mango juice?”
“Coming right up. Care to join me? I can give you a quick tour.” T’Challa said before he could catch himself.
“What the fuck am I doing?”, he thought to himself. Here he was, inviting this woman into his inner sanctum after one date and offering her a grand tour of the palace. The logical side of him knew it was too soon, but the emotional side of him couldn’t care less. He wanted this woman in his life. He wasn’t the only one surprised by his willingness to let her into his world.
“Do you do this for all your suitors?” she asked playfully as he opened the door for her and led her down the hallway to the same elevator bank they arrived in.
“No, actually. I do not,” T’Challa responded, prompting Ashanti to blush at his words and change the subject.
“So you have the whole floor?” They stepped in the elevator and went down several stories. “What about everyone else?”
“They have their own floors as well,” he leaned into her ear. “Mine’s just on top.”
They exited the elevator and once again Ashanti was floored by the sight in front of her. Not of the kitchen, but of the rest of the royal family in the living area.
T’Challa hadn’t expected anybody to be awake at this hour or he wouldn’t have suggested she come with him. Three sets of eyes turned and stared at the two of them, jaws dropped.
“Oooh someone’s in trouble,” Shuri said as N’Jadaka snickered.
“H-hello usapho,” T’Challa stuttered, making his sister and cousin laugh even more before Ramonda shot them a look to shut them up.
“T’Challa, your friend looks to be on the verge of a heart attack. Are you alright dear?” Ramonda asked.
“Y-yes Queen m-mother, your highness, um- ma’am” Ashanti quickly corrected her mistake and saluted the royals.
“There is no need for that. Come join us, we just started an American drama N’Jadaka suggested called- oh what is it again Daka?”
“Love Jones, auntie,” he said with the frustration of someone who had clearly answered the question more than once.
“Yes, that is it. There is space for you both over on the couch. Shuri, come join me over he-” she motioned for Ashanti to come join her on the couch and as she took a step forward, a strong arm lightly tugged her back.
“Mama, that is not necessary, we just came down to grab something to drink.”
“And you can still do that,” the Queen Mother snapped at her son. “Young lady what is your name?”
“Ashanti Mostafa, ma’am.”
“The jewelry artist?!” Ramonda said excitedly while Shuri tore her eyes away from the screen.
“I must say, your work is beautiful, dear. That necklace is one of my favorite gifts unyana wam ever gave me, your talent is astounding.” Ramonda showered Ashanti with praise and she almost couldn’t take it.
“I wore it yesterday and had several people asked about it, so you might be getting a few more customers soon!” Shuri chimed in.
“Wow, I-...thank you so much.” Ashanti wandered over to the couch and sat down, much to T’Challa’s dismay. He joined her, sliding his arm around the back of the couch.
“So, how was the date?” N’Jadaka pushed.
“Can you mind your business, please?” T’Challa said and shot him a glare, while Ashanti chuckled.
“Must have been good since you brought her back here,” Shuri whispered, leading Ramonda to pinch her arm.
“So what is the movie about?” Ashanti asked the prince, trying to change the subject. He caught on to her game, but let her off the hook for now.
“Love Jones, it’s a Black American classic. A romantic drama,” N’Jadaka wiggled his eyebrows at his cousin and winked at his date. Ashanti blushed and looked back to T’Challa who was leering at the cheeky prince. She placed her hand on his thigh and he looked at her, removing the scowl from his face. They shared a smile as the other royals tried not to notice the cute moment.
Ashanti and the royals watched the movie in relative silence with T’Challa’s arm steadily sinking lower and lower until it finally rested around her shoulders. Ashanti leaned into his side, and his free hand found hers and intertwined their fingers. Halfway through the movie, Ashanti was lightly snoring on the king’s shoulder, and Shuri and N’Jadaka were out, too.
“I like her,” Ramonda whispered across the room to her son, half sleep herself.
“I do too,” he whispered back before kissing her forehead.
“I can see that. Well I don't want to fall asleep out here like you young folks, so I will see you all in the morning.”
“Good night umama.”
“Good night, son. You be good to that one,” she lightly scolded her son as she woke up her daughter and nephew to usher them out the room.
“Yes ma’am.”
T’Challa spent the rest of the movie panicking about what to do next. Should he stay still and let her sleep uncomfortably on the couch, should he wake her up to go home, or should he carry her up to his bed like he had wanted to do all night and let her sleep there? He didn’t want to seem too forward and he wasn’t sure about how she would feel waking up in his bed, but he knew waking her from her sleep wasn’t an option. Just as the credits finished rolling and he had decided to stay in that position for as long as she did, Ashanti started to stir.
“What’d I miss?”
He loved how her voice sounded after just waking up, the raspiness tickling his ears. She untangled herself from him and stretched her arms wide.
“The rest of the movie,” T’Challa gestured to the screen and smirked at her.
“That was so rude of me in front of your family, I am so sor-”
“Ashanti, it's no big deal. Umama and I were the only ones who didn't pass out and she went to bed halfway through.”
Ashanti nodded and let out a yawn. Thankful for her lack of morning breath, she leaned in to lightly kiss his lips.
“Mm, what was that for?”
“For being so comfortable to sleep on. I mean, damn.”
The two started laughing before the king looked the artist right in the eyes and pulled her in for a deep, slow kiss. Ashanti’s hand trailed up from around his abdomen to cup his cheek and his hand came up to grip her thigh while his other arm pulled her into him. She was wrapping her leg around him when a cough interrupted them. T’Challa pulled away from the kiss, turning instead to glare at the third person in the room. Ashanti hid in the crook of his neck, embarrassed to be caught by whoever.
“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”
“I came for my shoes. Auntie got us out of here so fast earlier I forgot to grab em.”
N’Jadaka quickly walked around the couch, found his shoes, and dipped. When he left, Ashanti lifted her head then her whole body from his lap. He looked like a sad puppy when she left his embrace, missing her warmth immediately.
“It’s late, I should g-”
“Stay, please. It is late and I have a whole ‘king size’ bed you can have to yourself.” T’Challa almost begged her. She pulled him up and off the couch, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his jaw. She could hear the song they were listening to before they left his quarters playing in her head.
Sorry I left you
Left you cryin
But since you've been gone
I've been all alone
'Cause all of my tears
You know they left me drownin
Please baby I'm beggin
For you to stay at home
Tonight
Let's start our love again
Tonight
We can be more than just friends
Don't you know
The sun
Is going down
So baby won't you just stay
Baby won't you just stay
For a little while
Baby won't you just stay
For a little while
Baby won't you just stay
For a little while
Baby won't you just stay
For a little while
Baby won't you just stay
“You don't have to give up your bed, that I’m sure is the most comfortable thing in all of Wakanda. ‘I only bite when you want me to’,” Ashanti teased, throwing his own words back at him.
“So you’ll stay?”
“I’ll stay. I’m too tired to go anywhere anyways, I can barely- T’Challa!” she squealed as he picked her up bridal style. She clung to his neck and laid her head on his chest, too tired to fight him on it. She nuzzled into his neck as they rode the elevator back up to the top floor.
She was so tired she almost fell asleep again on the ride up, but the automated voice letting them know they had arrived woke her from her half-slumber.
“This man is just too damn comfortable,” she thought to herself. “He smells good, he’s warm...”
Just as she was sinking back into her relaxed state he placed her down at the foot of the bed.
“All I have for you to sleep in are my clothes, if that’s alright with you.”
“It is.” she smiled wide then started to take off her jewelry.
The king watched her from above in his standing position and stopped her from reaching for her shoe buckle.
“Here, let me,” he said softly before sinking down to one knee and pulling her foot into his lap. He unbuckled her sandal and pulled it off before kissing her ankle, and he did the same on the other side. Her eyes hung low with lust and fatigue, but she was laser-focused on him, trying to figure out how he knew that was her spot.
“Um, T’Ch-Challa?”
“Hm?”
“We should, um-”
“Yes, I’ll be back,” he cleared his throat and stood before turning and disappearing into what Ashanti assumed was his closet when he emerged with an Oxford t-shirt. “I already had the staff bring you a toothbrush and toothpaste, a silk scarf, black soap, and shea butter for your beauty and hygeine needs. They’re, uh, on the sink in the bathroom there.”
“Thank you, T’Challa,” she said with a soft voice.
“Don’t say my name like that if you want to sleep tonight. You’ve been warned.”
She jumped up from the bed and scurried to the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower. After she came out, he went in, taking a much quicker shower and emerging from the bathroom in nothing but a towel while Ashanti slid on her nightgown for the night. She didn't notice him at first, but he noticed her thick brown legs peeking out from his old college t-shirt and his towel jumped. By the time Ashanti realized he was even in the room, he had turned to go to his closet to pick out something to wear to bed. The king usually slept naked, but he had a couple of sleepwear options just in case. He slid on a pair of black silk pajama pants and padded back out to the bedroom.
Ashanti was climbing under the covers on his side of the bed, so he scooped her up and placed her gently on the left. He pulled back the covers for her and she slid under, then he climbed in bed on top of her and kissed her forehead before rolling off her to the other side of the bed. She couldn't help but giggle at his antics.
“Goodnight Ashanti.”
“Goodnight T’Challa,” she lightly pecked his lips then snuggled down into the covers. She was right about it being the most comfortable bed in the world, and she fell asleep almost instantly. T’Challa stayed up a short while watching her sleep before exhaustion overtook him as well.
Throughout the night Ashanti kept moving closer and closer to T’Challa until she ended up wrapped around him. Her leg was thrown over his side and his arm had come down to hold it in place while his other arm tucked around her midsection. When she eventually tried to roll away, his arms wouldn’t let go, but instead he rolled with her, spooning her from behind.
They spent the rest of the night connected, both physically and mentally, each dreaming of the other.
When morning came, T’Challa was the first to arise, in more ways than one. His dream had been salacious and his morning wood was something fierce. He tried his best to move his pelvis away from Ashanti, but she would move with him searching for his warmth. He eventually gave up and tried to focus on anything other than his erection, landing on her braids that were tied back yet still somehow sprawled out everywhere.
“I could get used to waking up like this,” he mumbled, the rumble in his chest waking her from her resting state. Her hand came up and caressed the arm that held her tight around her midsection, intertwining their fingers and turning around to face him, placing his arm back around her.
“Good morning beautiful,” he said grinning from ear to ear. Ashanti nearly melted at his husky morning voice. She wanted to hear it more often.
“Good morning your highness,” she giggled as he growled and tickled her sides.
“What did I tell you about that?”
“N-nothing, my warning was about your name!” she got out between laughs. In all her struggling to get out of his grasp she somehow wiggle her way back on her other side to escape the bed, only to be pulled back into the grasp of the Black Panther. When he pulled her into him he had forgotten about his situation, but she quickly became aware of his hard dick.
“I am sorry-”
“Don’t be,” she said as she grinded her hips into his, his dick resting comfortably between her cheeks.
“Mmm, Ashanti you’re playing with fire.”
She turned back to look at him as her hips moved round and round.
“Burn me, then.” She reached out to pull his face into hers but he resisted.
“Do you have to work today?”
“Well, yes, but-”
“Then not today. I want to take my time with you, plus you’ll need more than a couple hours to walk again.”
His threat did nothing but rev her up more.
“It is good to know you like morning sex, though. I’ll keep that in mind,” he teased.
Ashanti rolled towards the edge of the bed and threw her legs over the side. He looked at her with concern, but when she looked back all he saw was lust.
“I can’t lay next to you then, it’s too tempting.”
“‘It’ as in…?” T’Challa pointed down his body.
“Yes! I saw that monster at the lake, keep it away from me unless you plan on doing something with it.”
T’Challa chuckled.
“I can respect that,” he got up from the bed and held his hand out to her. She took it, tentatively, and followed him out to the patio. He pointed to her left at the rising sun and her mouth fell open when she turned around and took in the sight before her. The sunrise over Wakanda was even more beautiful from this height. She leaned into his shoulder and he kissed her forehead. The two of them stood like that for at least 15 minutes, just enjoying each other’s company.
_________________
Ashanti knew her roommates would give her shit for coming home at this hour wearing the same clothes she left in, but what she didn't expect was a damn welcome party.
“Oh my Bast, there she is. Tell us everything!” Binta screamed as Kwame rounded the table to attack her with a hug. He pulled back and took in her appearance.
“Why do you look so well-rested? You're supposed to be crawling right now,” he said, checking for bags under her eyes. “You're too put together. Spill!”
“Ok ok, damn. Can I get comfortable first before I tell you the story? Can I do that?”
“She’s too feisty, she didn't get any,” Binta whispered to her twin brother.
Ashanti shot them both a deadly glare on her way up the stairs to go change.
She made it to her room and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. That comfortable bed and that comfortable man really had her looking more rested than she had in months. She quickly changed into sweats and a tank top before heading back downstairs to face her roommates.
She jogged down the steps, remembering she missed her morning run, and found them still in the kitchen digging into breakfast. She watched as they piled their plates high, and sat down while they enjoyed their breakfast.
“Ok girl, so tell us about the date and why you didn't come home until 8am.”
“So…,” she started as the twins leaned in. “The date was a picnic at some private lake. It was beautiful, and he cooked u-”
“The king can cook?!” Binta gasped.
“That's what I said! But yeah girl, he cooked us a whole caribbean meal because he knows how much I love the Lost Tribe and their cultures- by the way, have you heard of Jodeci? Anyways, we can come back to that. So we’re talking and flirting and we combined our favorite songs into one playlist, and vibed out talking about the music...then we went for a swim-”
“A swim? You got naked in front of the king?” Kwame asked, staring at her with accusatory eyes.
“More importantly, did he get naked? Tell me about the strength of the Black Panther, honey.”
“Chiiiiiiile, that man was carved by Bast, straight out of Mount Bashenga itself.”
Kwame and Binta swooned, he was the first to get it together and get back to the conversation at hand.
“Alright, so what happened next? You fuck by the lake?”
“No we made out in the lake...then went back to the palace-”
“The palace?!”
“The palace?!” the twins said in total shock from the new bit of information.
“The palace, friends...and I ended up meeting the royal family on accident,” Ashanti watched her roommates’ eyes widen with every word, worried they’d pop out of their heads in a minute. “The Queen Mother and Princess Shuri complimented my designs, and we all fell asleep in the living room watching a Black American romance movie called ‘Love Jones’. Then when I woke up he asked me to stay…”
“Ok and you obviously did, so how many times did you get that back blown out?”
Ashanti chuckled at their impending let-down.
“Zero.”
“You expect us to believe- so you just slept there?”
“Mhm, in his bed...with him...all cuddled up. Then this morning we watched the sunrise over Wakanda and he made me breakfast. Woo, I almost fainted watching that man in the kitchen.”
They could catch flies, their mouths were open so wide.
“So let me get this straight...you had a romantic date with the king, made out naked in a private lake, he took you back to the palace to meet his fami-” Binta began.
“No, that was an accident. Carry on.”
“Ok whatever, so you run into his family, hang out with them, and then stay the night, had a romantic morning after, and at no time did you two get it in?! I don’t have your self control because, baby, I would’ve fucked that man in that lake.”
“I almost did, but my nerves kept getting in the way…”
“Oh honey, that’s ok. When’s the next date?” Kwame asked her.
A slow smile crept up Ashanti’s face and her eyes glazed over thinking about seeing T’Challa again.
“He has to go out of the country for the next week or so, but whenever he gets back I invited him over for me to return the favor and cook for him. You two need to make yourself scarce though.”
“That’s fine with me, I started seeing this hot mining tribe guy. Girl, he’s so strong from all that hard labor...woo,” Kwame fanned himself.
“And I have an open invitation to stay with Kiki, so I’ll go catch up with her while you catch that Black Panther dick.”
“Thanks,” Ashanti giggled out. Her friends were always so supportive of her, especially when dick was involved. They had been trying to get her back in the dating world for the last two years, but she had been so wrapped up in work that she barely had time for anything or anyone else. Her last relationship was short-lived and ended because her shop always came first. He was a good guy, but the sex was just alright. Before him was a manipulative piece of shit she stayed with for 3 years because she thought it was love, who cared more about his release than hers. Every man she’s ever dated left her either heartbroken or orgasm-less, and for years she wanted nothing more than to feel what she’s feeling for the king. Her friends knew she hadn't really had a proper dick-down and had made it their personal missions to get the cobwebs knocked off her pussy. The Black Panther seemed like the perfect candidate.
“So, wow...the king?” Binta was still processing the information.
“You had to kiss a lot of frogs, but look at you now!” Kwame chimed in.
__________
When Ashanti got to her shop, she was met with the sight of an enormous bouquet on her stoop. She immediately knew who it was from, and one look across the street at her parents outside their restaurant told her that they knew too.
“It was dropped off about an hour ago.” Chidi said loudly as he crossed the street towards his daughter to get a look at the flowers. It was a large bouquet of violets, her favorite.
“They’re beautiful,” Ashanti said with a goofy smile on her face. “Help me move this inside before they draw any more attention?” She and her dad brought the violets in and set them on her counter by the register. She stood back to admire them once more.
“So I take it the date went well?” Bisa asked her daughter, causing Chidi to roll his eyes and exit the shop while blowing his daughter a kiss.
“Mama, it was amazing! We already planned a second date for when he gets back in town.” Ashanti was giddy like a schoolgirl having her first crush as she told her mother the PG version of her date.
“Oh, that sounds wonderful, baby!” Bisa pulled her in fora hug and kissed her forehead. “He sounds like a good man.”
“That he is.”
The two spoke for a little while longer before saying a quick goodbye and parting to tend to their respective businesses. When Ashanti was alone she let out a loud sigh, staring at the beautiful flowers from her suitor. She picked up the card and read his note.
Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.
See you soon,
T
She held the note close to her chest and rocked on her heels, letting the feeling of a crush overcome her. She reached down and tweaked her beads, causing their playlist to pull up and shuffle. Of course this was one of those times when the shuffle feature seemed to read her mind, and what she referred to as ‘their song’ from here on out began to play. She swayed along, remembering the feel of his hands on her body. His warm, large, strong hands...
So here we are
Just me and you
We're thinkin of the things
That we used to do babe
Tonight is yours, lady
Yours and mine
Let's try again to put our trust on the line, yeah
Tonight
Let's start our love again
Tonight
We can more than just friends
Don't you know
The sun
Is going down
So baby won't you just stay
For a little while
Baby won't you just stay
Throughout the day her mind flashed back to the night before, missing the feel of his lips, the smell of his skin, and those deep dark eyes that became black holes when he was all worked up.
It was a busy day at the shop. A group of kids had come in for a pottery class in the back, and her jewelry was flying off the shelves. The art supply customers weren’t in short supply either, and she thought about finally hiring some help. Just as she finished dealing with a rush of customers and closed up the shop for her lunch break, her kimoyo beads dinged. She took a look and smiled at the name.
T: I miss you already.
She couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.
A: I miss you too. How are the Avengers?
T: A pain, as usual. All they do is argue with each other, I could get most of this done by myself. How was the shop today?
A: The busiest I think it’s ever been! I’m pretty sure I have your sister to thank for that. I’ll have to hire employees if it continues on like this.
T: I can’t believe you’ve been doing all of that by yourself. Oh by the way did you get my gift?
She looked over at the violets on the counter and bit her lip.
A: I did! How did you know violets were my favorite?
T: I just took a wild guess.
A: Good guess…
T: I feel like I know you so well already after just the one date, tell me something I don't know about you.
A: I’ve never broken a bone before.
T: Really? I’ve broken bones more times than I can count. Thankfully with the heart shaped herb in my system, I can recover fairly quickly.
A: What was your most embarrassing moment?
The bubbles disappeared for a moment. She wasn't sure if he was thinking on it or if he had to go, but then they reappeared.
T: My sophomore year of college, I was home for winter break and my umama caught me sneaking two ladies out of the palace. She looked so disappointed in all three of us, and I felt like an antelope in headlights. Until last night that was the last time I brought anyone home, by the way.
A: Two, huh?
T: That’s what you got out of the story?
A: uh, yeah, duh.
The two went back and forth for the rest of the day before choosing to video chat that night. They laid up all night talking about everything and nothing, just enjoying each other’s company. There were long stretches of silence when one or the other focused on another task, but neither could bring themself to end the call. It wasn’t until Ashanti fell asleep that he even thought about hanging up, but he let the chat continue for a few more minutes while he watched her sleep peacefully.
Two weeks passed by with the king and the artist regularly texting and video chatting from across the world. They were both anxious to be back in the other’s arms, and couldn't wait for his mission with the Avengers to come to a close. It finally did, over a week past it’s supposed end date. When T’Challa broke the news to Ashanti, her face lit up like a fire. He was set to come back Tuesday night, so they planned their date for Wednesday over yet another kimoyo chat.
“So what are you making me?” T’Challa asked her in jest.
In all honesty, she hadn’t thought very much about the menu.
“It’s a surprise, mister.”
“Mister? There are so many better names you could call me-”
Sir? Daddy? Kumkani? Her mind raced through the possibilities, enjoying each one. In their kimoyo dates they both had a habit of getting frisky. Sometimes one or both of them would be naked or in some state of undress, and sometimes things escalated from simply hot to downright pornographic. Ashanti learned that the king was a dominant man with a filthy mouth who loves to watch her put on a show, with him as director of course. By day three he had Ashanti topless, sucking on her own nipples, and today she had her fingers deep in her pussy all up in the camera for him to see every drop. She wasn’t the only one on display, he had his vibranium-hard dick out in his hand, stroking from his balls to the tip of his dick, pulling back his foreskin on the way back down. When he came, she stared at the milky substance dripping over his fist and stuck out her tongue, wishing she could taste him,
“You know, if you were here I’d expect you to clean this mess up. Right, kitten?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Uh-uh, not sir. You know who I am, don't you?”
“Yes.”
“Yes who?”
“Yes Kumkani.”
A wicked smile crossed his face and he chuckled lowly.
“Good girl. Are you tired already?”
“Baby I just drained myself on camera, be happy I can talk.”
“Mm, I like ‘baby’ too.”
Ashanti giggled at his one track mind, “Challa, let me get some sleep.”
“Alright, sithandwa. Sweet dreams,” he sighed then blew her a kiss. She blew one right back before cutting off the feed and laying her head down to rest, their song playing in her head.
Forget about yesterday
'Cause I want you so bad
Make love to me like you never had
My love
Is coming down
So baby won't you just stay
For a little while
Baby won't you just stay
For a little while
Next Chapter
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Secret of the Widow
-part six-
Summary: Post Endgame time period. The team is healing, trying to navigate this new normal they’ve found themselves in when Bucky and Sam bring home a stray with an attitude and a secret. Will the broken team take her in? Or is it too much to bare?
Warnings: language, *eventual* violence and smut, death, fluff, angst
Pairings: Bucky x OC
Disclaimer: this is posted to Wattpad as well and it WILL HAVE PLOT. I’m a Bucky hoe so there will be smut and romancy stuff but this is a series, so plot plot plot.
Forty-five minutes later I walk out of my still steaming bathroom. I wish I could thank Tony for the never ending hot water and place to live, it's a nice change in routine.
I wish I could thank him for a lot of things.
I give myself a little shake. No sappy moments, not right now.
With a lighter step, I throw on some baggy sweatpants and a tank top, leaving my hair to air dry. I'm pretty sure a good first impression was thrown out the window already anyways.
With a final nod in the mirror, I leave the sanctuary of my room and give myself to the wolves.
As I enter the kitchen, the smell of cheeseburgers and salty fries hits me. I'm almost certain I let out a tiny moan, but I'm going to deny it if asked.
"Hey Ali, grab some food and come sit by me sweetie." Wanda yelled from the table, not even glancing at me, unlike the rest of the group.
Banner still seems reserved, like he doesn't know how he's suppose to respond to the news of my existence. Clint on the other hand looks like he has something to talk about, sad curiosity all over his features.
Having not eaten in the last two days, I'm positive I could inhale more of these beautiful beef buns than even Barnes can, who is currently sitting with three burger on his plate and a mountain of fries. Okay well maybe not him, but Wilson for sure. The mans pretty scrawny.
After getting my food, I plop down in the seat between Wanda and Bucky, immediately tearing into my food. Etiquette be damned.
"So where's Petey? He and I have some unfinished business." I'm pretty sure I just heard Barnes try to cover a small chuckle with a cough. I should probably not talk with my mouth full, at least not during my first ever meal with the team.... whoops.
"He's attending MIT, following Tony's footsteps apparently, so he went off somewhere to study his big book of boring." Wilson didn't even bat an eye while answering.
The room settled in silence for a few minutes. It was not a comfortable one at all.
With a loud sigh I set my wonderful, heavenly, beautiful burger down. "Okay. Spit it out. This silence is strangling me and I'm trying to enjoy this God sent meal in peace."
Sam chuckled quietly, wiping his mouth free from the mustard smeared everywhere. "Okay tiny Tony calm down."
That's the second time today I've been compared to Tony. Each time my heart breaks a little. It's nice though, having a part of him so apparent in me that they see it despite meeting me less than five hours ago.
"So you and Stark were close, obviously, Nat is your mom, still weird, and you know Barnes pretty well by the looks of it."
I pop a few fries in my mouth before answering. Mmm fried potatoes doused in salt is a glorious creation. "All of that is very true baby bird."
Barnes hides a smile as Sam glares very unthreateningly across the table at me. My fry hits him right in the nose.
This time Clint joins Bucky in choking down a laugh.
"So how well do you know Barnes here hm? You were eighteen when you met? I wonder-"
Bucky tensed up, jaw ticking away. Wanda just pursed her lips and kept quiet.
I set my hand on his metal arm. "Stand down Sarge, birdys just trying to wind you up." Bucky relaxes, nerves still on edge and eyes throwing daggers at the bird man.
I look to Sam with a raised brow. "I'm a lady Samuel, we don't kiss and tell. Did you have anything productive to ask before you got all pissy?"
He sighed in annoyance, eyes showing slight amusement. "I still want to know how you got those cuffs on us, they have no key or biometric identification. Did you see me enter the code?"
I let out a soft laugh and turned to Wanda. "You should've seen their faces, it was a beautiful sight." With a glance back at Sam I shove another bite of my burger into my mouth, talking around the food. "I worked with Stark for years dude. I have access to, and can override, anything in this building. He gave me full clearance before I could drive."
"But he never let you up here? Even when we were out on a mission?" This time it was Banner who spoke up.
With a small smile I shrugged. "We didn't want to chance me running into any of you, especially after Petey joined. He worked in the lab with me a bit and it made Tony a little wary. Plus Nat worried about Sarge here seeing me."
Buckys head snapped to me, not expecting to be brought into the conversation. "She knew I had no memories though, why would meeting me worry her enough to ban you from the upper levels?"
Our eyes locked for a few seconds before I turned away, glancing at him as I breeze past the question. "Conversation for another time Buck.... so who made dinner? Well complements to the chef Clint, this is some juicy meat."
•••
Dinner continued with light laughter, and small talk. The group introducing themselves and trying to welcome me into the tight knit squad. The atmosphere was kind, but I could see the change caused by the loss of their friends. A year later and the wounds are still barely even scar tissue.
I remember the times I'd be working in the lab and get bored, eventually deciding that the Avengers would be my own little reality show to pass the time. They use to be so care free, at least as much as they could be, laughter filling the halls and pranks pulled on one another. Now it's random bursts of joy until the silence relapses for a bit.
Maybe I can do some good here. At least bring a little more light into the tower, make the darkness fade a little.
Wanda and I decided to have a movie night in the living room while the guys did whatever guys do. She chose some romcom, which we inevitably verbally assaulted as the cheesy plot continued.
"So, Ali, besides Fury is there anyone else in your life?"
"Nah, there's been a few dates, but having to lie about who you are makes things difficult. Although, so does my choice in work and the fact that I'm very rarely interested in anyone enough to put in the effort." I gave her a shrug and just rolled my eyes, keeping the conversation light.
"I'm curious on the team dynamic. Tony and Steve were like the divorced parents that told everyone what to do, is it just a 'go with the flow' situation now?"
Thankfully this made her chuckle. "Apparently this family of ours can't function without parents that hate each other. Bucky and Sam are the exact same way, they've taken the mantle up themselves. But honestly we're still learning our strengths and how we fit without the old pieces."
I gave her a nod, forehead creased while I tried to picture the teams strengths and weaknesses cohesively fitting together.
It wasn't until midnight when we decided to get some sleep, setting plans to go shopping after lunch the next day.
The bed was more comfortable than anything I've ever had the absolute pleasure of laying upon, but I still couldn't pass the hell out.
I just grunted in very extreme annoyance, despite this being a normal occurrence, and rolled out of bed.
After a quick stop to the kitchen to make some tea, I made my way to Tony's lab.
It looked just as it did the last time I was here, seven years ago Thanos time I suppose.
Walking around the large space, knowing that Tony won't be strutting in yelling about his genius breakthrough after his twelfth coffee of the morning, or having him standing over my shoulder as he teaches me the new mechanics of his suit, well it's surreal.
The room doesn't even feel like him anymore. This lab was once a place that brought me a sense of comfort and home, a place where his laugh encompassed the very life of the room, where his sarcasm bounced of the walls in never ending jabs. Now it is just cold and empty. The joy it once held long gone.
I sit in the floor, leaned against his work table. Now realizing that tears are running down my cheeks, a quiet remembrance to a man I cared for like a father.
I don't bother to wipe the tears away, it'd feel like denying him this moment, I just sigh and rest my head against his chair. "Oh Tony, you self sacrificing idiot.. I miss you. So much. I can't believe you left me alone with Nicky, that was just cruel you know. You both did."
With a shiver I set the empty mug beside me, bringing my legs up to curl my arms around.
"Why did you always have to be so hell bent on sacrificing yourself? Everytime this world called, it was always YOU risking it all, YOU flying into a space portal, YOU getting so much hate and blame from the team, even SHIELD, all the time. I just-" a chocked sob surprises me as I realize this is the first time I've talked to him, really talked, in six years.
"You had everything T, a wife, a baby, me and Petey. And they asked you to give it all up, yet this world barely gives you the recognition you deserve. Steve walks out and just leaves, after so much death, so much that needs cleaned up, he makes the most selfish decision i have ever seen, and yet is grieved more than you are. He walked out on his best friend, left the team already broken, and had the audacity to think he was owed that selfishness. A man who gave up everything and asked for nothing in return, overshadowed by the man who had nothing and was handed everything." I let out an angry little chuckle.
"This world is so backwards and cruel. Now I'm left in it alone. What am I suppose to do T? This place, these people, there's no light here anymore. And I just- it's just- it's so hard Tony. My parents are gone and I'm alone and I miss you so much. Being here breaks my heart. Every second I'm within these walls, knowing I'll never hear your laugh, your encouragement or sassy remarks, never walk in to AC/DC blasting while your passed out at your table. Every second I'm here hurts T. I just- I miss you so much dad and I'll never get to tell you how much I love you."
If I hadn't had my eyes closed, or been in the middle of an impressive mental breakdown, I might have heard the footsteps approaching long ago. But my tears brought sleep to me quickly and everything went black.
#avengers#avengers fic#black widow#bucky barnes#bucky barns fanfiction#captain america#endgame#marvel#spiderman#the falcon#enemies to lovers#iron man#bucky x oc
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30 BTS writer asks: 1, 12 + 18? ❤️🌻
Almost forgot to add - thanks for asking<33333
1. What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?
Unsurprisingly, it was for Naruto and Sasuke/Naruto. You can still read it in all its glory, even on ao3 lmao. Might be hard to believe but that fic (Unsuspicious title, don't ask why it's called that I have no explanations) is really the absolute first thing I wrote that counts as a fanfic. I didn't write about other people's fictional characters before that. I didn't really write much outside of school at all, not sure how I lived my life tbh...
12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?
I answered earlier that I want to write a horse rider au at some point, but what I'd also like is to write a real enemies to lovers fic. Like, actual enemies. But it might be too angsty, so who knows if I'll ever make it lol.
18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.
Aah you guys really want that commentary don't you... maybe one day I'll release a version of tswm with director's commentary for the whole thing hahahahaha (jk I'd never have time to do that)
But alright, I'm gonna take the opportunity to comment on another scene in tswm that I definitely this deserves it, it's the reunion scene between Naruto and Sasuke in chapter 49! I hesitated to pick this one bc it's so long and emotional, and also I don't want to add any accidental spoilers... but oh well. Here we go!
[My comments will be in bold text, this starts almost at the beginning of the chapter, right when Sasuke meets Naruto in Kaguya's place.]
He reached out with a hand, the bright light reflecting in the half-moon in his palm. It glowed, and just like that, his hand wrapped around another’s.
Naruto.
He sucked in a breath, lungs desperate for air. Naruto stood before him, chest heaving, hand clutching Sasuke’s so hard he feared it might break.
Their shared beat rang loud in his ears, eyes wide as they drank each other in. The darkness had given way to white, fuzzy light, their bodies floating, suspended in air.
“Sasuke,” Naruto whispered, as if afraid to drown out the sound of their connection.
Honestly, I tried my best to make it as painful as possible. That's all I wanted lol. At first I had no idea how to write this scene, but then I just got a feeling and tried to write it in words.
There was no hiding in this place. It was similar to that strange place that seemed to exist between them when they fought, blows connecting, hearts open. Between one breath and the next, it would be gone, their shared hearts lingering long after.
Nothing more poetic than that special place Kishimoto created for them when they exchange blows... extremely gay.
Here, there was only the two of them, the heat of their bodies as Naruto reached for his face.
“Am I dreaming?” Naruto wondered, fingers stroking along Sasuke’s cheekbone. “You look so real…”
They sank down, slowly, until their feet touched solid white. He shivered, the tips of Naruto’s fingers touching his chin, his mouth.
“It could be a dream,” Sasuke said quietly, exhaling as Naruto came closer.
“I can feel your heart,” Naruto murmured, his forehead coming to rest against Sasuke’s temple. “I missed you so much.”
Images flashed before Sasuke’s eyes, impressions of the world from Naruto’s perspective. Menma as the kyuubi. Kakashi, entering through a window. Iruka, hand gentle as he reached over the table.
Sakura, pain drawing her face tight. A mountain of paperwork. Snippets of conversation. The overwhelming pain of loneliness, like walls closing in on him.
He puzzled together enough pieces to make sense of the days since they separated.
Must be convenient to just read each other's minds... I should stop making fun of my own writing. But anyway, I felt very clever when I realized I could skip explanations between them and just let them see each other's memories of the past few days. I think it fits that they could see it through the other person's eyes, all the emotions too. Especially how painful it was for Naruto and how much he was trying to keep it together in front of his friends, and still failing. It gives Sasuke a better understanding of what would have happened if he'd decided to leave after one year passed (and I'm still bitter at Kishimoto for doing that in canon.)
“Naruto,” he sighed, lifting a hand to sift through soft strands of hair, closing his eyes as Naruto pressed into him.
Hearts bared, he felt Naruto’s desperate longing as his own. It mirrored his own pain, the aching emptiness filling his chest. Little by little, the cold was pushed away by warmth, Naruto’s mouth touching his cheek, his jaw, his throat. It burned against his skin, each point of contact erupting into tendrils of heat that seeped into his body.
“I didn’t know what to do,” Naruto confessed, lips shaping the words onto Sasuke’s throat. “I couldn’t go back to you, I-“
Sasuke turned his head, capturing his mouth. The words were lost between their lips, swallowed by the sudden surge of need. Naruto’s arm wrapped around his neck, keeping him in place. A fever caught him, leaving him dizzy and faint. He felt emotions between them like a physical caress, like they swirled in and out of their bodies, like a strong wind playing with fallen leaves.
Pain. Longing. Fear.
Happiness. Comfort. Love.
Naruto kissed him like he’d die if they stopped. He might, for all Sasuke knew.
Don't mind me, I was just crying buckets as I wrote this.
Their hands were still clasped tight, their palms pressed together, keeping their marks in contact. Teeth dug into his lower lip, but he could barely feel the pain over the onslaught of emotion. It was overwhelming, to share Naruto’s heart so fully. Was this how Naruto had felt, when Sasuke had touched him by accident? When Sasuke had shared too much of himself, and Naruto had been unable to give him the same in return.
I think it actually wasn't as overwhelming for Naruto when Sasuke accidentally touched him. This place that Kaguya controls just amplifies things a lot.
No such restraints now.
Their souls were on fire, like chakra flames billowing around their bodies. It was too much to make sense of, and yet it felt as if they’d always been this close, always been one and the same. Naruto fit inside him like a key, like Sasuke was now unlocked, his body no longer keeping him prisoner.
“Naruto,” he breathed out, over and over again, every nerve ending alight as they held each other.
I was listening to this song called Heat Up by Giant Rooks as I wrote this (that's where the chapter title comes from and honestly the lyrics are just *chef's kiss*) and I really tried to use as much metaphor as I could, idk if that makes it sound boring haha but for once I was definitely thinking very hard about every single sentence. And I tried to make it as "alive" as I could, so you'd feel it rather than have it described to you.
An eternity later they calmed down, mouths sliding lazily over each other, heartbeats finally finding their shared rhythm. Their foreheads pressed together, Sasuke’s eyes fluttering open to meet deep blue, their usual strength faded into self-doubt.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, running his fingers through Naruto’s hair, thumb tracing the shell of his ear. “Don’t hide from me, not here.”
Aww look at Sasuke, so in tune with his emotions. He really is an all or nothing kind of guy. If they already share everything in this place, there's no point in having secrets. Besides, his worst fear is Naruto losing confidence because of something he said or did.
Naruto let out a sharp breath, lifting their clasped hands between their chests.
“I missed you,” he said again, eyes closing in pain. “I’m so happy you’ve been okay.”
So much pain. Sasuke struggled to make sense of it, so much of it reflected inwards, towards Naruto himself. He could understand the longing, the absence of him like a gaping hole. It mirrored his own pain, pain he’d locked inside his heart within a steel cage. It flowed freely now, wrapping around Naruto’s in recognition.
But the rest… Naruto let out a sob, and yet he was smiling. Sasuke pressed another kiss to his lips, unsure of what to say.
I know Naruto did that whole waterfall thing where he embraced his evil side and totally let go of all his negative energy... But you can't tell me he's 100% okay and only happy and never feels pain. When will Konoha start offering therapy... Jokes aside, at this moment in time Naruto is so conflicted. The whole time he's been worried about Sasuke leaving him, and telling himself that Sasuke would be happier in the other dimension, and that logically he should let Sasuke stay, but he absolutely doesn't want Sasuke to leave him. It's the most selfish thing he's ever felt, I think, this need to have Sasuke by his side. And he's got so much on his shoulders, just piling up, everyone relying on him to somehow magically fix the world. And he's afraid of failing, of acknowledging to himself that there are parts of him that aren't ready to shoulder this burden, that he's still hurting, that there's still a part of him that could have become like Menma. He's supposed to be completely selfless but he isn't, and he thinks of that as a character flaw, a personal failure. And that's kind of where his resolution to not become hokage comes from. Because he doesn't think he can remove this selfish parts of him, and so maybe he should embrace them instead.
“Sasuke, it’s so strange…” Naruto started, his words slow, carefully chosen. “You understand Charasuke so well, but Menma… I can’t accept him. And now I realize, he shows the ugliest parts of me. The parts that I’m afraid of.”
They both leaned back a little, to see each other’s faces. Light played over Naruto’s features, blurring him at the edges. Sasuke cupped his cheek, tilting his chin up so that their eyes met. Now that he knew what to look for, he could feel Naruto’s fear.
“It’s always there,” Naruto confessed, raw honesty in his voice. “The fear of losing you. The fear of not being strong enough. The fear of becoming hokage, and failing.”
Sasuke opened his mouth to say something, to reassure him, but Naruto shook his head quickly.
Sasuke, on the other hand, he never held himself up to be a good person. He's well aware that he has weaknesses, that he's putting up walls so he won't have to deal with emotions and stuff. But he does believe (a bit blindly) in Naruto, I think. Even though he thinks Naruto won't succeed, it's not because of anything that Naruto does or fails to do. He thinks it's because the world won't follow him, that Konoha isn't capable of change. But he never thought that Naruto would actually give up or have these kinds of doubts.
“Let me say this. I didn’t understand it at first. Menma always rubbed me the wrong way. I know you don’t like him either, but for me… It’s like looking at myself and knowing I gave up.”
He drew in a deep breath, his fingers trembling around Sasuke’s.
“And now, here, I can’t avoid that fear. Because all of it… all of it is for you, Sasuke.” He swallowed, and through the fear, Sasuke saw his determination. “You asked me, if there’s any room in my head for anyone but you. And there isn’t.”
Naruto's brain is 99% Sasuke and 1% ramen, that's just fact. That aside, this might be one of my favorite quotes in the fic.
Frowning, Sasuke bit the inside of his cheek to stay silent. Naruto was working up to something, he could tell, and part of him couldn’t help but think it would end the two of them.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Naruto said, drawing the pad of his thumb over Sasuke’s eyebrow, the touch equal parts reassuring and painful. “I can hear your thoughts, you know. Do you really believe that I would choose anything else over you?”
A lie caught on Sasuke’s tongue. He didn’t want to believe it, but what place did he have by Naruto’s side? How could he be all that Naruto wanted him, needed him, to be? How could he be someone that others would accept walking by his side?
Oh, Sasuke. Always so ready for Naruto to cast him aside. He doesn't want to stand in the way of Naruto's dreams *wipes tear*
“I don’t believe that you would want to,” he replied, eventually. “But maybe you should.”
They stood for a long time, looking at each other. Sasuke felt torn in two directions. He wanted to tell Naruto to never leave him. He wanted to say that he’d accept anything. That he’d remove himself from Naruto’s presence to make the choice for him. That he couldn’t, wouldn’t, stand between Naruto and his dreams.
That he’d known, all along, that the other dimension was only a dream. An impossibility. That he accepted this, and wouldn’t resent Naruto for choosing the village over him.
I think the difference between Naruto and Sasuke here, is that even though they both think the other should maybe leave them for better things, Naruto is much less ready to actually give Sasuke up. Sasuke is more of the martyr type lol.
“You deserve me,” Naruto said, voice dark with conviction. “Don’t you dare think otherwise. Don’t you understand? If you saw what I’ve been doing the past days…”
Naruto lifted their joined hands higher, shifted his grip until he held Sasuke’s palm open in front of himself.
“I thought only of you. I cared only about you. What good is the village to me, if you’re not there?”
His heart felt too heavy in his chest. Naruto’s words rang through his ears, the implication behind them ensnaring his heart until Naruto held it in his hand, too.
“I don’t want any of it, if you’re not with me.”
Sasuke lowered his eyes. He couldn’t allow himself to give in. He’d already given so much, and although he knew that Naruto would have this, too, it was too much in this moment.
“Sasuke… When are you going to recognize that you’re a good person? That even if our relationship hadn’t changed like this, I’d still need you beside me?”
I wanted to write this part so badly... To make Naruto tell Sasuke that he's a good person. That Naruto thinks so, at least. It's one of the first things I thought of for this scene. Not that Sasuke agrees haha.
“Me, a good person?” Sasuke raised his eyebrows, meeting Naruto’s gaze again. He recognized the stubborn glint in Naruto’s eyes, and sighed. “Even if that was true, you’re smart enough to know it’s not enough.”
Slowly, Naruto pulled his hand closer, his grip turning gentle. Sasuke caught himself holding his breath, as Naruto’s lips connected with the mark on his palm.
“You still don’t understand,” Naruto murmured, the movement of his lips tickling Sasuke’s skin. “The past few days, what have you been doing? Caring for the children, when I wasn’t there to do it. Putting Charasuke before yourself, comforting him in the ways he needed you to. Holding yourself together. Trusting me to come back.”
This is where we acknowledge exactly how much Sasuke has changed. Naruto spent the days apart thinking only of Sasuke, even to the point where he was neglecting his friends and duties. Sasuke, on the other hand, stepped up to fill the role he thought Naruto left behind, hiding his pain behind helping others. Ultimately trusting Naruto to hold his promise to come back. Also, I just want them to be soft with each other T_T
Staring at him, Sasuke’s breath caught in his chest at the swell of pride Naruto felt for him. Was it true, that he had changed so much? In Naruto’s eyes, he had. It was startling, to realize how Naruto thought of him. But Naruto had changed too, he thought. They had grown closer, in a way he didn’t think they could have in their own Konoha.
“I think Charasuke is a bit like you,” Sasuke said, lips twitching upwards at Naruto’s affronted look. “He needs physical comfort. I don’t mind giving it to you, and I guess I don’t mind giving it to him either. You both tend to do whatever you feel like, anyway.”
“You used to mind.” Naruto looked serious, reaching out to touch Sasuke’s mouth as if to prove his point. “Suddenly, you didn’t.”
The smile slipped from Sasuke’s lips. Naruto was right. A few weeks ago, he did push Charasuke out of the window. To be fair, Charasuke hadn’t liked him much back then, either, and the circumstances had been very different. He did understand him better now. If Menma represented Naruto’s fears, Charasuke represented everything Sasuke wanted in life. But Charasuke didn’t have Naruto, didn’t have Menma with him either, and maybe that was why Sasuke wanted to be there for him. His connection with Naruto was precious to him, had kept him going, had kept him questioning himself even in his worst moments of darkness. Had given him a reason not to give up on a life that wasn’t filled with pain and hatred.
Naruto made it worth it to change. Was he hoping to help Charasuke change, too?
Spoiler alert... yes you were, Sas.
Perhaps Kaguya had something to do with it, but maybe, even without her influence, he would have reached this point anyway if given enough time. Time they didn’t have back home. It surprised him to realize that Naruto had thought of this already. That he felt selfish for wanting Sasuke to go back with him, when he knew it would be painful.
“You minded when I touched you, too,” Naruto added, as a reminder that they were talking about the two of them.
“I didn’t.” It was easy to confess. “I couldn’t allow myself to accept it, but I never minded. And now…”
Even if Naruto could read most of his thoughts in this space, it was difficult to say the words.
“I was afraid to have more of you. I still am. Because I know they’ll never accept it.”
Sasuke vs homophobia :( Can't really kill that with a sword. Sasuke was definitely in love with him before they went to the RTN dimension, he'd just buried it so deep that he had no idea it was there or what it was. If you separate love from attraction it's not really gay, is it? (It is)
Naruto kissed him again, desperately. There were so many thoughts swirling between them, a mess of images and emotions overshadowed by the overwhelming fear of losing each other.
Naruto’s guilt, for not being able to reach Menma like Sasuke reached Charasuke. Their worry for each other. The frustration of being forced to wait. Sasuke’s slow realization of how much Naruto meant to him. How much his family meant to him, even a different version of them.
“I can’t be without you again,” Naruto said, swallowing thickly. “There’s so much I want to say and I don’t know how.”
“I’m here,” Sasuke promised. “Any way you want me to be.”
Even though it hurt, knowing the struggle that lay ahead of them, how Naruto had struggled only the past few days.
He wasn’t sure when he’d closed his eyes, but Naruto’s hands holding his face between them made him open them again. His expression was serious, almost solemn.
“I think you’d be happier if you stayed there,” Naruto whispered, searching his eyes. “You can’t deny it. I know they’d take care of you, and I can tell that your bond with your family is important to you. In a different way than ours, but still. I’d forgive you, if you chose them.”
Stop sacrificing yourself, Naruto. I don't like it.
“How could you say that?” Sasuke grabbed Naruto’s wrists, glaring at him. “Even after everything you said about how you can’t be without me, how you’d never choose anything over me, and you still think I would leave you? Even when you can feel my heart, you think I won’t choose you no matter what?”
Sasuke calling him out, as he should.
He knocked their foreheads together, tightening his grip.
“You think I’d choose happiness over you?”
How could he be happy, if Naruto wasn’t there with him? It wasn’t even an option. He cared about Charasuke, that was true. And the other version of Itachi, of Shisui, his family… Even the Sakura of that world. But how could they compare? Losing Charasuke would hurt, but it wouldn’t rip his soul apart. Staying with them would be a life, but it wouldn’t be living. How could Naruto think of himself as selfish, and still be so incredibly selfless when it came to Sasuke? What was he supposed to do, to make Naruto trust him once and for all?
“If I deserve you, why wouldn’t you deserve me in turn?”
Naruto didn’t have an answer to that. Sasuke hadn’t expected him to, and he felt him struggle with the concept. Naruto’s hero complex wasn’t doing either of them any good.
Like, I personally don't like the concept of anyone deserving love or not deserving it. Love is something you give, freely, regardless of how society values the other person. The love you give isn't less worth depending on the person receiving it. But I think the both of them are so traumatized that they need to make peace with this concept. They kind of need to be told - yes, you do deserve love, and I will give it to you. Naruto's hero complex is like... we don't have time to unpack all of that.
“You want to do this the hard way?” Sasuke continued, tone sharp. “I’ll do it with you. I don’t think you’ll succeed but I’ll do it.”
He gathered up all his resolve, all his conviction, pushed aside his own reservations.
“Saying you’ll forgive me… that’s a lie. You wouldn’t. You never would. And I wouldn’t want you to, anyway. If you wanted me by your side and I couldn’t do it, you’d be right to hate me.”
“I could never hate you.”
“Then I’d hate myself.”
Bearing each other's burdens and all that...
Naruto made a face, as if to disagree, but Sasuke felt him smile despite the topic of their conversation.
“What kind of role reversal is this,” he muttered, pressing his thumbs into Sasuke’s cheeks childishly. “I don’t even know why I’m arguing about it.”
“Because you love me.”
They stared at each other. Naruto’s eyes widened in shock, but Sasuke held his ground. What was the point in pretending anything else? It all made sense like this, and perhaps deep down Sasuke had always suspected it, even before he returned to Konoha.
“Y-you can’t just say it out loud!” Naruto spluttered, slapping his hands onto his own face instead, hiding behind them with a groan. “Stop being so smug about it!”
Me, while I wrote this: Yeah, you can't just say that out loud! The pain of being perceived. I am suffering with Naruto.
“I won the argument, didn’t I?”
“Ugh, shut up!”
Feeling lighter, Sasuke wrapped his arms around Naruto, leaning his cheek against the top of his head, Naruto burying his nose in his neck. He’d deny it when they were back in reality, but he could feel that Naruto wanted the body contact, and he was unable to resist it. It didn’t take long for Naruto to calm down, releasing a huff into Sasuke’s neck.
“Maybe we can just stay in this place forever,” he said, sneaking his arms around Sasuke’s back.
“You’d miss ramen too much.”
If an emotional scene doesn't end with a joke, what are you even doing with your life. But writing them hug was like, releasing so many endorphins. I'm weak to it.
It was strange, to talk and immediately feel every thought behind the words, every emotion on full display. Naruto’s amusement radiated off him, and it was his turn to feel a little smug as he concentrated on everything that Sasuke felt for him.
When Naruto started imagining long days spent in bed, Sasuke rolled his eyes and decided they’d been emotional enough for the time being.
Sasuke like, I can accept the lovey-dovey stuff, but I draw a thick line in front of the bedroom door. He's got some work left to do lol.
Idk if any of this made any sense but... there you have it!
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